My Luckless Romance
by Hades'Queen
Summary: Tracey's just come back from possibly her worst summer of her whole life having been orphaned, kidnapped and married all in one go. But her school year is about to get a lot more interesting. Snape/Tracey, Side-Pairing Harry/Morag. Set during HBP and is a bit AU.
1. Prologue: Non Refundable

**Disclaimer:** World of Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. Story's title is part of a lyric to the song "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy.

**A/n:** Part of "The Ten, Twenty, Thirty Chapter Challenge" by_ aimz666. _I picked the pairings_, aimz666 _picked the amount of chapters and their titles. Challenge is combined with the "Almost like a novel- multi-chapter-story-challenge" by _Alarice Tey._ Story set during HBP, or at least starts there and is a bit AU.

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance **

**~X~x~X~**

_**Prologue: Non Refundable**_

Tracey sat in an empty compartment next to the window, already decked out in her school robes with a thoughtful expression on her small, pale, pretty face. For once, her long hair was not pulled up in a high, completely casual and plain ponytail. Long silken strands of straight, wine-red hair fell into her face, obscuring it partially from sight.

However, her greyish-green gaze was not studying the yet crowded platform, nor the steps that often passed by her compartment door. Instead, they were fixed dead ahead of her, staring blankly, all the while she twisted a plain, platinum band around a long, dexterous finger.

Somehow, her mind couldn't quite wrap around the events of the last several weeks, which had altered her life so completely.

_My mother is dead. _

Somehow, she still couldn't quite believe that. Tears emerged in her eyes, which she was quick to wipe away.

She'd never had much of a relationship with her mother. In fact, she was pretty sure what they had was hardly considered a relationship at all unless one counted the time her mother spent training her in self-defense. Apart from that her mother fed her, clothed her, and put a roof over her head, and as far as her mother was concerned, that was as far as her obligations with Tracey went.

Tracey had never known love from her mother. Had never received comfort or affection from the woman. While she had never been abused in any way, she was quite sure her mother _hated_ her. Sometimes she would just look at Tracey... with so much _abhorrence_, that Tracey was left reeling.

And now, her mother was gone; the only parent Tracey had ever known, had been murdered and Tracey wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel. However, for some reason the loss had still hurt, even if her mother had been anything but model parent.

"Oh, you're alive. And here I thought you'd dropped dead," Tracey slowly turned her attention to the compartment door from which the haughty, cold voice laced with sarcasm had issued. Tracey knew who it would be, before her mind had caught up. She wasn't particularly surprised when she found herself staring at a considerably peeved Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin House's resident Ice Queen.

Daphne Greengrass was by far one of the most attractive girls in all the school. Her features were perfect; her skin pale, and blemish free, it looked like porcelain; she had pale, blue eyes which looked like chips of ice on a clear day; her dirty-blonde hair fell to her hips just like Tracey's but instead fell in loose, neat curls. While her frame was for the most part slender, she had shapely legs and a large bust when compared to other sixth year girls.

Tracey didn't say anything in response to Daphne. She knew what Daphne was angry about. She and Daphne had been best friends since first year and while most people only knew the blonde as the Ice Queen, Tracey knew Daphne, the girl beneath the layer of ice. The girl who hated the stupid pure-blood propaganda, and loathed the thought that Slytherin had become the home of the bullies and future Death Eaters.

Tracey in particular took offense to the latter. Nothing could make her angrier, than being assumed to be a future Death Eater. Especially when she was a half-blood and looked down on by most of her House-mates and especially as her mother was an Auror.

Most summer's, she and Daphne wrote to each other non-stop and Tracey usually spent the month of August with the Greengrasses. This year, Tracey had been unable to make it. She was sure that Daphne must have written her a million times, and having not received a response, was deeply offended and hurt.

However, how did she go about explaining to her friend, that one day her mother had not come home from work and Tracey had woken up in a dark, cold, cell? How did you tell someone, even if they were your best friend, that you had been a prisoner for nearly a month before suddenly being forced to marry against your will, a man old enough to be your father, because some nut had decreed it?

Daphne closed the compartment door and stepped in fully, her features twisting from cold anger, to concern.

"Tracey?" Daphne questioned, her tone softening as she noted how pale and thin her friend looked. Though Tracey's expression was blank, there was something in her eyes that unsettled Daphne. She simply looked lost and broken. The girl Daphne had always known as silently defiant, sassy in the face of disdain... simply seemed _gone_.

"My..." Tracey felt her throat constrict and she turned away from Daphne who had suddenly taken the seat next to her. She felt warm, soft hands taking her own cold one's in their grasp. She could feel the tears build in her eyes, but forced them away as she cleared her throat. "Faeleen's' dead," Tracey said in deadpan.

Daphne's eyes widened at this as she stared at her friend in horror. Tracey's eyes were trained almost unseeingly on her lap. "Oh Merlin, Trace, I'm so sorry. I know you and your mum... but that's just awful," Daphne stated, at a loss to what she was supposed to say and losing her composure for once. She'd never lost anyone, and wasn't sure what she was supposed to say, especially when knowing that Tracey and her mother had never exactly got on splendidly.

Daphne felt suddenly so inadequate, a feeling she had never really felt before. She found herself almost wishing that Theodore Nott was there with them, but pushed the sentiment aside.

"That's not all," Tracey said, blinking slowly and turning her attention to her hands, where they were still clasped in Daphne's own. For a moment, Tracey paused, wondering if she should say anything. However, she hadn't exactly been forbidden from sharing the information and Draco was well aware of the situation having been a witness. Tracey didn't think it was far-fetched to assume that Goyle and Crabbe knew too, either by Draco or their father's. Surely, it wouldn't be long before the majority of Slytherin was aware of what happened, so what was the harm if she told Daphne _now_?

"What is it?" Daphne asked, dreading what she was about to hear. She couldn't imagine anything worse, but she knew something else was troubling her friend and it made Daphne ache. Tracey was like her own sister, and Daphne couldn't really abide the thought that she couldn't help her friend.

Tracey slowly looked up into Daphne's blue eyes, seeing them shining at her with sadness, though Daphne put on a brave face. Tracey couldn't help the corner of her lip lifting slightly, knowing for certain that she _needed_ to tell Daphne. Though there was nothing her friend could do about the situation, just the thought of someone knowing about it and _sympathizing_ with her, or having someone to talk to about it with, made her feel slightly better.

However, Tracey wasn't sure how to tell her without having to explain the entire situation. And somehow, she wasn't ready to really even think of _all_ that.

_Tracey sat, frozen on a cushioned, expensive, antique bench before an equally antique, ornate, vanity. Her mind still could not quite comprehend what was happening. In the mirror's reflection, she could see her hair pulled out of her face, the strands that ran alongside her face twisted and connected in fancy braid behind her head. The rest of her hair was loose and falling in a sheet of very dark red all the way down to her hips. _

_She was wearing expensive, off the shoulder, white dress robes. A silk sash of silver was tied around her waist. The sweet heart collar of the robes, had an intricate design weaved in silver thread. _

"_You look very beautiful," Tracey looked up, where Narcissa Malfoy stood over her shoulder and was smiling at her tensely in the mirror. Though Tracey had only seen Narcissa a handful of times and did not know the woman well, she could see the sadness in her pale blue eyes. Eyes that almost reminded her of Daphne's. _

"_Why is this happening to me?" Tracey asked, unable to keep herself from asking. She didn't understand anything. While she could understand why Death Eaters would want her mother dead, as she _was_ an Auror, Tracey didn't understand why they had gone to all the trouble of kidnapping her. Why not just kill her? Why locker her up for weeks? Why force her to marry anyone? "I'm nobody, I'm not even a pure-blood."_

_Mrs. Malfoy shook her head sadly, running delicate fingers through Tracey's hair. "You don't know anything, do you?" Mrs. Malfoy stated, not unkindly. _

_At this, Tracey would have normally felt her hackles rise. But she didn't have the energy as she turned where she sat as best she could in the robes she wore and looked up in Draco's mother's general direction. "I... I've never... even had a boyfriend."_

"_Sweet Salazar." Suddenly Mrs. Malfoy was kneeling before her and taking her limp hands into her own and looking up into her eyes with a somewhat fierce expression. "I know right now this appears to be the end of the world to you, but it isn't," Mrs. Malfoy whispered in a rush. "You've been very fortunate. Severus is a good man, he won't... let you come to harm."_

"Tracey."

Tracey snapped out of the memory and looked at a visibly concerned Daphne. Not knowing how exactly to say it, she pulled her left hand from Daphne's hold and raised it to eye level with her friend.

Daphne stared perplexed at the back of Tracey's hand. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be focusing on when her eyes narrowed on the ring on Tracey's hand. Knowing her friend had never been one for jewelery, it was a bit strange, not withstanding the fact that the plain band was affixed to her friend's ring-finger. "Tracey... is that what I think it is supposed to be?"

"If you're thinking a wedding-band, then yes," Tracey replied, her voice dry and ironic, almost reminiscent of the Tracey she knew so well.

Daphne put one of her own hands over her mouth, to cover the fact that it had fallen open. However, the gasp was easily discernible as she stared wide-eyed at her dark-haired friend. "You're married?" Daphne hissed in shock.

"It was... _arranged_," Tracey replied darkly.

"What? Why? By who? _To who_?"

Tracey didn't know the answer to the why. Frankly she was in the dark and didn't understand. However, she could answer her friends last question. "Snape. And yes, I do mean, _Professor Snape_."

Tracey turned away and placed her now free hands in her lap once more while Daphne struggled to find an appropriate reaction to such news. Bizarrely, Tracey found herself thinking that this was what people who won the lottery must feel, the sort of lottery that is that no one wanted to win and it was non refundable.

Because who else in the bloody whole world, could this have happened to? Who else would have the misfortune to be kidnapped, orphaned _and_ married to their professor and Head of House, all in one summer before they even finished school?

**TBC...**

**A/n: **Please review. Reviews help fuel the muse. Besides that, let me know if people are reading and enjoying the story, since I've got several other stories in the works, reviews help me know which one's are being actively read and therefore are more desirous of my time.


	2. Chapter 1: House Mash Up

**A/n: **Prompts for this chapter, "twine" and "The Sound of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel.

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 1: House Mash Up**_

_Tracey stood, looking almost blankly around the spartan room while her insides seemed to begin to thaw; soon, she was certain, she'd be trembling as she cast her gaze around, trying to not think. _

_Big fourposter, rickety nightstand, old wardrobe... that was the extent of the furniture in a room that was barely lit by what seemed to be artificial light, the source of which Tracey couldn't quite locate. Not that it mattered at present. The fact that she was standing in her _husband's_ room and that they'd soon be sharing a bed, seemed all she could think about._

_She could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat at the thought. At sixteen on the verge of seventeen, Tracey had never done anything with boys. Though, she knew the mechanics of sex and was more than aware of the statistics regarding non-consensual sex. However, the idea that Professor Snape would force himself on her was ludicrous. While she was more than aware that Snape was not a nice man, and that he could really be quite the bastard, she didn't think he was capable of rape. _

Didn't think he was a Death Eater either, did I?

_Tracey shoved the thought roughly aside, jumping when she heard the door click as Snape shut the bedroom door before drawing his wand. Tracey tensed and as she watched him cast spells on the room. _

"_You shouldn't concern yourself, Miss Davis, I have absolutely no desire to-" Snape was beginning to say silently before running his hand through greasy locks of his hair, as he stood with his back to her. He slowly turned to her, but Tracey couldn't bring herself to look in his face, knowing it was pointless anyway as she expected it would be devoid of emotions as ever. "I would've provided you your own room, unfortunately I currently have a _guest_...you must stay in here."_

_Tracey fidgeted with the sleeves of the white robes Mrs. Malfoy had given her to wear to her wedding. Distantly, she wondered if all wedding nights were this uncomfortable and dismaying, in the days where arranged marriages was the norm. Tracey could feel her heart racing, though she tried to ignore the discomfort it provided and numb herself to what had just happened to her. _

_The idea that she was married, weeks shy of being seventeen, was absurd to her. Tracey, in her short life, had never really even considered marriage. _

"_Breakfast is at seven, lunch at noon and dinner at six in the kitchen. I would suggest you try to say as little as possible to Wormtail, though there is little to fear from him... he's a coward. You are not to touch any of my things, and any books you are to find interest in, you can only borrow under my express permission. Good night, Miss Davis."_

"Your cousin is staring at you," Daphne whispered quietly from where she sat next to her on the bench at the Slytherin table. Tracey slowly drew her gaze away form the High Table, where she had been looking for Professor Snape who was absent throughout the sorting and most of the feast. Despite sharing his sleeping quarters with her, Snape had attempted to maintain the professional line between them. A fact that Tracey was still trying to dissect after the week she had spent at Spinner's End.

Professor Snape had always been a bit of a mystery. Though, Tracey had never put much attention in trying to figure him out. As far as she was concerned, he was just her Head of House, and Potions Master. He was quite mean and nasty if you were unlucky enough to get on his bad side, and even when in his graces, there was sometimes no escaping a tongue lashing.

However, for her part, Tracey managed to usually fly under his radar. She was neither praised like Draco, nor decimated like Neville Longbottom. She was just another one of his Slytherins and he was just another Professor. Tracey didn't usually spend any of her time thinking about her Professors, not even if said Professor was her Head of House.

Now, she couldn't help thinking about the man and wondering about him. He was a Death Eater, and yet he had not touched her... in fact, he hadn't even been particularly mean to her and even been rather civil to her. He hadn't really treated her any differently than he had in the last five years of schooling.

_Am I just unattractive to him? Or is he... _actually_ a good person?_

"So?" Tracey said distractedly as she looked over at the Ravenclaw table, searching out her cousin who was apparently staring at her, all the while toying with the food on her plate. Her eyes locked on a girl with a pretty face framed by straight, shoulder-length, red hair cut in layers and wore navy blue, subtly horn-rimmed glasses.

"Does she know?" Daphne asked conspiratorially, while eyeing Tracey playing with her food with some concern, as usually Tracey had quite a... _healthy_ appetite. In a way, Daphne vaguely envied Tracey, as the other girl usually stuffed her face and never seemed to gain an ounce of weight.

"Only about Faeleen," Tracey replied stoically as she noted the concerned look on Morag McDougal's face. There was a time, Tracey and Morag had spent a lot of time together... before they both came to Hogwarts, and before Tracey realized how unfair it was that Morag seemed to have everything while Tracey had nothing.

While Tracey didn't resent Morag and contained her envy, they had still drifted apart over the years so that they now hardly spoke to each other. It didn't help matters that Tracey was sorted into the House with the worst reputation.

The distance that had interposed itself between them over the last several years, was hard for Tracey to really understand, when once they had been so... close. They were like two pieces of twine, really, when they were kids. Always inseparable. Tracey supposed that for the most part, she was to blame for their distancing.

Tracey returned Morag's stare with considerably less emotion on her face and in her eyes than she felt, before looking away with an air of lack of interest. She stared about her and noted that Draco was sitting with Pansy, Millicent, Goyle, Crabbe and Blaise, regaling them with some tale or other with a smirk on his face while everyone but Blaise laughed along like trolls. Tracey hoped as she looked away that Draco was not talking about her wedding.

Moving her gaze a bit down the table, she spotted Theodore Nott, sitting by himself and with a book plopped before him, which he was reading voraciously. She felt a slight tug in her heart as she stared at the lanky boy with stringy, mousy brown hair that flopped about his face. However, she forced her eyes away from the boy she once considered a very good friend.

"Are you going to tell her?" Daphne asked, eyeing her friend with a barely visible frown marring her usual mask of detachment. Since the moment she'd seen her, Tracey had been quite taciturn. Daphne could understand why, so much had happened in such a short amount of time and Tracey's life had been completely uprooted. However, the stupor her friend was in worried her. Usually, Tracey... well perhaps she wasn't ever overly chatty, but of the two of them, was usually the one that spoke more.

Tracey shook her head, though, she wasn't sure what she _would_ tell Morag. She saw the look of determination in the girl's blue eyes, that shined like beads of turquoise when hit by the sunlight. She was going to have to tell Morag _something_ about her disappearance after her mother's... death. There would be no escaping that. Especially as she was sure her aunt Imogen and uncle Collin would have been concerned about her disappearance.

Furrowing her brow, Tracey turned to look at Daphne as the cogs of her mind started turning as she thought that in the event of her mother's death, her aunt Imogen would have been granted custody, as she was Tracey's only blood-relative, that they knew of, and Tracey was still not seventeen. "Don't people have to be of age? To marry?" Tracey asked quietly.

"Usually. Only way they can marry before is if they have their parent's or guardian's consent," Daphne replied, as her father was a member of the Wizengamot and Daphne aspired to follow her father's footsteps.

Tracey's brows contracted further. _How is my marriage valid then? My mother would have never allowed it... and she was dead by then..._

However, before her thoughts could delve any further into the subject, she found herself being brought out of her thoughts by an elbow to her ribs. Before she could look over at her friend and glare, her attention was called to the front of the Hall as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. Immediately, all the chatter around the hall died down.

"_The very best evening to you!"_

Tracey watched with dull eyes, bored already by what she expected was your typical start of term announcements. "Look at his hand," Daphne said, startling Tracey as it sounded like there was horror in it. Tracey barely caught a glance of the blackened appendage her friend has pointed out before Processor Dumbledore was hiding it within his sleeve as the Headmaster told them it was nothing to worry about and started to welcome them, "What do you think happened to it?"

"Only a Dark Curse could cause damage of that caliber," Tracey replied dispassionately, as she thought about images she had spotted in one of her mother's many books on Defense. "I'm surprised he isn't dead. Usually that kind of injury kills you."

"Well... I suppose Dumbledore isn't known as the greatest wizard of our time for nothing," Daphne replied cavalierly

"_We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former colleague __of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master," _Professor Dumbledore went on, causing a stir in the Great Hall as everyone turned to one another to gossip over the change of staff.

"Did you know that?" Daphne asked, turning to look at her friend whose facial expression darkened. Ripping her gaze from the new Professor, who in a way reminded her of a walrus, turned to glare at the blonde girl beside her.

"No!" she gritted out, wondering why Daphne would ever imagine that Tracey was privy to Professor Snape's life. Just because they were married, did not mean they were even friends.

"_Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," _Dumbledore went on, to the dismay of many. Tracey's eyes widened in surprise as her heart inexplicably seemed to skip a beat as her gaze looked to Headmaster's right where Snape was now seated. Distantly, she wondered when he'd gotten there, while she watched Snape closely as he lazily acknowledge the applause, mostly from Slytherin, with a hand.

"He shouldn't be so pleased," Tracey remarked quietly, noting the glint in his dark eyes even from where she sat.

"Why?" Daphne asked, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "I mean, its what he's wanted for what? Fifteen years?"

"Because the position is obviously jinxed. And given the track record of our last five Professors, I hardly think this bodes well for him," Tracey replied grimly.

"Tracey, are you concerned for him?" Daphne asked, raising a sleek, perfectly sculpted brow. Tracey looked over at her friend who was studying her with those usually cold and guarded eyes.

"He was decent to me, Daff," Tracey whispered simply, as if that alone was sufficient reason to not want anything bad to happen to their Head of House.

XX

Besides a few stupid comments from Goyle and Crabbe, Tracey found that no one else really knew about what happened to her and Snape as her school year kicked off to a start. For that at least, she was grateful as she sat at the breakfast table the following morning, once more shoving food around her plate and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Tracey, you need to eat something. You hardly ate anything last night," Daphne stated coldly with disapproval in her voice. Tracey was tempted to roll her eyes, however, couldn't help the slight tugging at the corner of her lips as the mother-hen in Daphne made her appearance; a habit she got into, being an elder sibling.

"Yes mother," Tracey stated sardonically, before her heart clenched painfully inside her chest. Tracey grimaced as she ignored her friend's look and turned her attention back to her plate, while simultaneously trying to avoid thoughts of her mother's death.

"What subjects are you going to take?" Daphne asked, knowing her friend was in need of a distraction; though not really wanting to enable her friend, she knew there was no point getting Tracey to do something she didn't want to.

Tracey ran her fingers though her long, straight locks of hair, combing them out of her face with her fingers. However, the moment she removed her hand, they fell smoothly back into place. For a moment, Daphne's eyes were riveted to the dark, silken strands as they caught the light of the sun coming in through the window and seeming to paint portions blood red.

However, before she could respond, a shadow fell over the pair. Simultaneously, both sixth year girls turned in their seats and tensed as they noted their Head of House staring down at them with a blank expression. "Miss Greengrass," he addressed coolly, his eyes locking onto the pale blue set and narrowing. "You are cleared to continue to take all your classes, with the exception of Defense."

"But, sir-" Daphne started, her brows contracting in mild confusion.

"You will need an 'Outstanding' for _my_ class, which you did not achieve," Snape replied sternly and coldly, scowling down at Daphne so that the blonde, haughty girl would not try to argue her way into his class. "Of the classes you may take, which do you wish to continue?"

Tracey looked towards her friend, investing her attention intensely on her friend's predicament to avoid thinking about the fact that her _husband_ was standing there. However, she couldn't help playing with the singular ring on her left hand, while her gaze fell to Professor Snape's left hand on which a similar band rested on his own ring-finger.

Distantly, she considered the _Notice-me-not charm_ he had placed on her ring the day before, when he had arranged for her to be taken to King's Cross. She had to imagine that his own ring had a similar charm cast on it, so that no one could see it, unless they were very much aware that it should be there.

"And you, Miss Davis?" Tracey tensed and slowly turned her gaze to look at Snape, whose determinedly detached voice sliced through all her thoughts like a knife through butter. "You're cleared for everything except Astronomy, and Divination."

"Transfiguration, Defense, Charms, Potions, and Ancient Runes," Tracey counted off, not looking up at Snape as she focused on her friend seated beside her who was looking at her time-table with a deceptively nonchalant attitude. However, Tracey could see the extremely white knuckles or her friend's small, but elegant hands and knew that Daphne was fuming.

A piece of paper, shoved under her nose, had her taking her own schedule and muttering a thanks; turning away her own attention without a further look to Snape who made his way down the table.

Tracey frowned when she noted that the first class she had that morning was Ancient Runes, followed by Defense and that later on she had Potions. "So, who'd you get?" Daphne asked.

"What do you mean?" Tracey asked, drawing her gaze away from her schedule and looking up into Daphne's inquisitive eyes with her own confused, grey-green pair.

Daphne shook her head. "You were spacing out last night, weren't you?" Daphne asked rhetorically, only pausing for a moment before continuing while Tracey continued to give her a blank look. "During Dumbledore's speech last night, he told us he was instating a new policy to '_promote safety and inter-house relations'_. As a rule, we will all be assigned a fellow student from a House different to our own, whom we must be with at all times when we are either not in class, out on the grounds, or in Hogsmead. Basically it's the buddy-system," Daphne explained, this time actually rolling her eyes to show what she thought of the entire idea. "I've got the bushy-haired wonder, Granger. Who did you get?"

Tracey continued to look at her friend blackly, causing Daphne to become impatient. "Your assigned partner is at the bottom of your schedule," Daphne huffed.

Tracey turned her attention back to her schedule and looked at the bottom. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she saw the name written there. For a moment, Tracey wanted to bash her head into the table, wondering just what the hell else had planned to her for this coming year as she glared heatedly at the name written there.

_Potter, Harry._

XX

Daphne was going into full out, Ice Queen, bitch-out mode. Tracey smirked, content to simply cross her arms over her proportional chest, lean against the wall and watch. Presently, they were all cued outside the Defense classroom, waiting for the start of class.

"Look Potter, I don't rightly care if you have a lot on your plate at the moment. I'm not losing points, nor attending detention, just because you're afraid about being seen with a pair of Slytherin girls. Believe me, it isn't exactly thrilling nor good for our own reputations to be seen with the likes of _you_," Daphne stated coldly and haughtily, her arms crossed over her ample chest as she looked down her nose at Potter and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder for good measure.

While Daphne didn't have a problem with breaking the rules, like Tracey, she preferred it to be on her own terms. When she knew the risk of getting caught was minimal. Breaking the rules because of a singular, stubborn Gryffindor didn't care to comply, was a whole matter entirely.

Potter, returned Daphne's cold look with one of his own. Tracey was rather impressed, especially given the flash of fury that seemed to whip across the boy's vibrant, emerald pools. The boy with messy black hair, straightened his spine, and almost reached Daphne's own height.

Tilting her head, Tracey momentarily studied the rumored savior of their world. Somehow, she'd pictured him being taller. As it was, she was rather certain that the boy-who-lived was eye-level with her chin. Although, to be fair, Tracey was one of the tallest girls in the school, coming to nearly six feet in height. Daphne told her she had an model-like quality to her build. Though, Tracey took pride in her height, she'd never particularly cared for her slender build, and she was quite sure models had no hips to speak of, which was not the case for the red-haired girl.

"Greengrass, is it? I'm sure you _don't_ like having to be paired with a muggle-born, or that your friend is paired with a half-blood, traitor-

Tracey tensed, moving swiftly off the wall and side-stepping Daphne as rage boiled beneath her skin. "What are you trying to say Potter?" she snarled, suddenly putting her face in the Gryffindor boy's. Her own paler green eyes flashing with sudden, ferocious rage.

"Just that I'm sure it _would_ hurt your reputations with your little Death Eater friends," Harry stated coldly, unimpressed by the snarling, Slytherin girl in his face.

Though, Tracey was little known in other Houses, most people in Slytherin, specifically students who tried to bully her because of her blood-lineage, knew Tracey was not someone to be trifled. And only Daphne was close enough to Tracey, to know that to make insinuations about Tracey being a supporter of the Dark Lord or in anyway upheld the belief that purebloods were superior to muggles and muggle-born's, was a dire mistake to make.

"Listen here you little berk," Tracey snarled, clenching her fists at her sides to keep from throttling the boy. "Don't pretend you know anything just because you have a stupid scar on your head and your parents are dead. I don't care if the whole world looks at you like some kind of Saint, because as far as I'm concerned you're just another ignorant Gryffindor. As much as it rubs you the wrong way, you're going to do your best to adhere to _this_ rule, or I'll make sure Daphne reports you and your Prefect buddies to Snape for not following the rules. And if you EVER suggest anything about me again I'll make your life hell."

Harry, who looked quite close to boiling over when she had so harshly and coldly tossed in the bit about his parents and only restraining himself due to Hermione's warningly calling his name, was now significantly nonplussed. "I'm shaking. Because Voldemort is nothing compared to you," Harry stated sarcastically.

Tracey's eyes narrowed to slits. "But I have something the Dark Lord doesn't have, Potter."

"Whats that?" Harry asked challengingly, whilst only humoring the girl who seemed to tower over him as she suddenly flashed him a smile, that came off a bit maniacal.

"Propinquity. I'm inside the castle. I can get to you. You better watch your back, Potter," Tracey stated serenely, which only served to discomfort Harry more, before turning to walk away.

"Tracey, can be very patient Potter and she's got you in her sights. I almost feel sorry for you," Daphne stated insincerely, her eyes flashing with a remote sort of amusement before she too turned and walked away.

"That was kind of scary," Ron muttered, once the three Gryffindors were once more alone. Hermione sighed in exasperation as she rounded on Harry.

"You shouldn't have done that, Harry," Hermione stated with disappointment tinging her reprimand.

"They were both attacking me!" Harry stated in defense. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Daphne Greaangrass, is just like that... she seems to hate everybody. She's just a bossy and arrogant, but... she can be nice," Hermione stated, plowing on as she noted both males before her seemed about to protest. "And you shouldn't have said that to Tracey. She's a half-blood too, or at least treated that way by most of her House."

"Did you hear what she said about my parents?" Harry's voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Hermione frowned deeply, her brown eyes quickly casting about the hall, which was filled with fellow sixth years who were now staring over at the golden trio.

"I know, Harry, but you shouldn't make assumptions about her either, just because she's in Slytherin. I read in the Prophet this summer that her mother was murdered by Death Eater. And Tracey went missing after her death... it was suspected that she was abducted," Hermione explained. Harry sagged, the fight seeming to leave him as a nagging sensation settled deep inside his stomach. Harry suspected it was guilt.

XX

Tracey lay across the black leather couch and stared up at the ceiling in the Slytherin common room. She ignored the fire roaring to her left in the fireplace, and played with her hair as she thought of her very long and exhausting first day.

She'd spoken for the first time in six years to Harry Potter, and not just spoken to the boy, but got into a full out argument with him. She had even received an apology from the golden boy after Defense, which she did not _truly_ accept due to the fact that she doubted the Gryffindor golden boy's sincerity; she felt that he had apologized simply because he saw how well she did with nonverbal spells, being the only one in the entire class to master it at the first attempt.

Although, to Tracey it wasn't as impressive as it appeared to be to the rest of the class. After all, when her mother started teaching her magic when she was still a child, it had been with nonverbal spells form the start. Now, it was simply what came naturally to Tracey.

Feeling the tears which suddenly came to her eyes, and the sudden burning in her throat, Tracey was quick to redirect her thoughts.

Despite the long day, despite not having sleep very well for many days, Tracey couldn't bring herself to sleep. As she stared at the dark, deserted common room, eerily lit by green lamps hanging from the ceiling by chains, she frantically searched for something to occupy her mind. Something that would not remind her of her dead mother, who starved her for affection. Something that would not remind her that she was married to Snape, a bitter, cold, unattractive man old enough to be her father. Something that would not remind her that she had spent what seemed an undeterminable amount of time in a cold, dark, dank cellar; void of comforts, voice of even light and fresh air.

Shivering in revulsion at the thought of the slop she'd been fed, and the fact that she'd not been allowed to shower until the day of her wedding, she started to hum loudly to herself while pressing the heels of her hand to her eyes. As if by putting enough pressure on the close lids, she could erase the past.

Slowly she became conscious of what she was humming to herself and grinned sadly at the irony.

_Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left it's seed while I was sleeping, and the vision planted in my brain, still remains, within the sound of silence. _

Tracey wondered vaguely, of all the songs she had ever heard, why this came to her at this particular moment in her life. For some reason or other, even as a child, the song seemed to have a haunting quality to her that always seemed to touch her heart. Staring at the green ambiance of the dark and empty room, somehow it was very fitting.

Tracey continued to hum as she lay almost limply and in the cool room, barely aware of the fire to her left, which gave her face a glow and made the strands of her hair it touched seem to burn in the darkness, like glowing embers of wood.

"_People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening,_" Tracey sang quietly to herself, her voice shaky from lack of use. Tracey could hardly even recall the last time she sang. While never having any particularly talent for it, she could at least take pride in the fact that her singing voice was not dreadful, nor often pitchy. _"People writing songs, that voices never shared; no one dared, disturb the sound of silence._"

**TBC...**

**A/n:** Sorry for the long wait. I wrote and rewrote portions of this chapter several times, I hope that it is at the very least satisfactory.


	3. Chapter 2: Game Over

**A/N:** Prompts for this chapter "Botcher" and "a revealing of a lie".

**~X~x~X~ **

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 2: Game Over**_

The only classes Tracey had with Daphne were Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Charms. A fact which irked her as she had one class more with the golden trio than she had with her best friend. To make matters worse, as the first week progressed, it came to light that Ronald Weasley's assigned partner turned out to be none other than Morag McDougal whom Tracey had no less than three classes with!

_Of course it is!_ Tracey fumed as Saturday morning finally came, as she angrily and bitterly swallowed her porridge, eating with an almost deranged concentration of a evil mastermind.

The only thing that kept her from snapping every time Morag tried to approach her during classes, was the fact that she was so tired, due to lack of sleep. Tracey also came to know rather belatedly, that her Professors, more or less, were giving her grades a pass this semester. It was explained to her through a letter from Professor Dumbledore, informing her that due to her recent loss, her grades would be pardoned, which Tracey was given to understand meant that it wouldn't matter if she failed to do any work for her classes, she would still receive a passing grade.

"_Small consolation I suppose_," Daphne had told her, with a tinge of irony in her voice when she'd read over the letter. For her part, Tracey had wondered why it hadn't been sent to her on the first day she was back, however, it didn't really matter. She was doing her work anyway, at least when she could manage to concentrate on her work and needed the distraction form her life.

"I've been wondering," Daphne started slowly, eyeing warily the way her friend was stabbing at her porridge viciously. "Have you really forgiven, Potter. Or are you merely pretending to treat him the way you treat people you tolerate?"

"I'm making an attempt," Tracey replied, dropping her spoon as her anger suddenly fled her and she shot a gaze across the hall to where the golden trio was sitting. "However, I'm still teaching him a lesson."

"Do you know what you are going to do to him?" Daphne asked as she turned her attention to her breakfast, picking up a few slices of toast daintily. Her long, dirty blonde hair was pulled out of her face and tied up in an elegant, perfect bun at the back of her head.

Tracey felt a smirk easing its way onto her face as she gazed at her friend. "I've got that all worked out. Now I just need is to get him alone and off his guard. Shouldn't be too difficult a task, all things considered," Tracey replied, her smirk turning into a grimace as she thought about how much time she and Daphne had been spending with the Gryffindor trio. It had taken some threatening on the Slytherin girls' part, and an unlikely alliance with Granger, but they had gotten to an arrangement of sorts which had them spending most of the time outside of class with Potter his entourage, not to mention Morag.

Before either of the girl's could continue with their present topic of conversation, Pansy Parkinson sat across from them, who'd been a bit busy lately, having to spend time with Anthony Goldstein as she was. "Did you hear the news?" Pansy asked with the excitement she only mustered to conjure up when there was new gossip to be shared. Both Tracey and Daphne turned their full attention to the brunette girl now sitting across from them.

"What news?" Tracey asked, though her voice had a bored tone to it that Pansy had learned to ignore over the years. Just like Blaise, and for the most part Draco, had learned to ignore her sarcastic barbs or at least not to take them to heart.

"You don't know?" Pansy asked snootily as she laughed. "Oh right, neither of you talk to Theodore or Blaise anymore after Daphne's nasty break-up with Theo," Pansy went on, hoping to watch the two girls opposite her squirm with her tactless response. However, neither girl gave her the satisfaction as they both remained aloof to this response and merely continued to watch Pansy with unamused expressions. Though, Theodore Nott was still a bit of a bone of contention between the two friends.

"We have a new student," Pansy told them, pausing momentarily for dramatic effect and shaking off disappointment she felt at not stirring any juicy reactions from the girls that she could spread to the rest of their House. "He's in Slytherin and he's a seventh year. Draco told me that he just showed up last night, that he'd been home-schooled. Theodore told me his name is Evan Prince."

Tracey and Daphne both felt their eyebrows shoot up into their hairline as they exchanged looks and quickly composed themselves. When Pansy told them she had news, neither one of them expected that it would be somehow related to Draco and wouldn't be anything that would interest them.

"But... we _never_ have new students... or transfer students... or anything of that sort," Tracey stated with a slight befuddled expression on her face. Pansy shrugged in response to this.

"Well we do now. I'm off, ladies. Anthony Goldstein is anal retentive about this Buddy system policy," Pansy stated with a roll of her eyes as she got up and marched off. Tracey raised a brow at this as she watched the girl with straight, shoulder-length, dark-brown hair walk off, wondering since when the girl cared about anything other than her needs and wants and Draco Malfoy.

Tracey was about to turn and say something to Daphne, when a tawny-colored owl suddenly stopped before her. Tracey blinked slowly in surprise at the barn owl before her that was extending his leg at her while hooting softly. "Botcher," Tracey stated dryly, regarding the letter attached to the bird wryly.

"What?" Daphne asked in confusion, before looking up and suddenly noting the owl that was expectantly waiting for Tracey to take the letter dangling to it. "Isn't that your aunt's owl?"

"Yeah," Tracey replied simply with a slight frown. The owl's name was actually Mort, but Tracey liked to call him Botcher, on the count that he always managed to somehow botch his deliveries. Either by losing the post, or getting it to its recipient pretty late, or sending it to the wrong person. Tracey wasn't sure why they even kept him and continued to use him, but Tracey guessed it was out of some sentimentality on the part of her aunt Imogen.

Reaching out, Tracey checked the letter to make sure it was really meant for her. Upon seeing her name written in fancy, navy blue scrawl, Tracey sighed. She really should have expected this, considering she was sure her aunt was very worried about her. Tracey was at least glad it wasn't a Howler and just your run of the mill letter.

"Off with you," Tracey stated, shooing the owl away once she'd gotten her letter, refusing to give it a treat. The owl, however, merely flew off towards the Ravenclaw table and landed before her cousin, who was staring at her. Tracey rolled her eyes and stuffed her letter in her robe pocket. No one in Slytherin opened their mail at the table, knowing it was best to have privacy, lest someone read over your shoulder and learned things you'd rather them not know.

"Come on, we've got to meet our buddies," Daphne remarked dryly. Tracey sighed and nodded. Together they started walking down the length of the Slytherin table, Tracey annoyed that she was about to start yet another day in which she was going to have to try her best to avoid her cousin Morag. Which was becoming increasingly difficult, more so today as their company would only be interrupted by meal times.

Tracey grimaced as she and Daphne walked, Tracey's walking a few paces ahead due to the length of her legs. "What are we going to do today?" Tracey asked, thinking about the amount of time she'd have to spend in company of the Gryffindor trio and her cousin.

She just turned to look over her shoulder at her friend, when suddenly she felt her shoulder shoved into something. "Watch it Davis!" a pompous voice cried, one she recognized well as she whipped around and saw Draco Malfoy glaring at her before shoving by her. Tracey glared at the back of the blonde's head for a moment, before attempting to shrug it off and turn her attention back to her friend. However, as she picked up her pace, she found herself furrowing her brow as something occurred to her.

"We're going to meet them by the lake. Hermione and I thought it was best if we all got together today and tried to get to know one another," Daphne stated, not having noticed her friends brief encounter with Draco Malfoy and chasing away Tracey's thoughts.

"That sounds like loads of fun," Tracey replied sarcastically as she moodily walked along with the blonde and exit the castle. They set off across the grounds at a leisurely pace. Tracey frowned as she tried desperately to cling to the thought that had crossed her mind when she ran into Draco, but was having a hard time remembering just what had occurred to her. She had the distinct impression that was important.

"Well considering the way Potter reacted to us, and knowing Weasley is worse, Hermione and I thought it was for the best we played a game, to allow us all to get better acquainted," Daphne stated in a way that made it obvious she thought their idea was rather an inspired one.

Tracey merely chose not to comment as they walked, meanwhile tugging on the sleeve of her oversized, black hoody. It wasn't long before the pair spotted the small group awaiting them by the lake.

Tracey's gaze was quick to size them all up and rolled her eyes when she spotted Morag, whose short hair was tied up in a high pony-tail while she wore navy-blue jogging pants and a long-sleeved baby-blue shirt beneath a darker blue tee. She guessed that her cousin's habit of waking early every day and going for a run had not abated in the last several years.

"Now that we're all here, we should get started," Hermione stated, with an uncertain smile as she sat and motioned for her friends to follow suit. Both boys seemed to do so grudgingly, sitting on either side of the bushy-haired girl. Morag seemed as uncertain as the boys as she sat next to Ron Weasley.

"Are you going to be okay with sitting on the floor?" Tracey asked ironically, ignoring the four other sixth years and shooting a look to her dignified friend who was staring at the ground with distaste.

"Of course, why do you think I wore these robes?" Daphne asked coolly, moving to sit a few paces away from Morag. Tracey nodded at this, as she considered the fact that Daphne was wearing a plain set of black robes; Daphne wasn't really one for wearing black, she said it did not suit her fair complexion nor her pale eyes .

For her part, like Hermione Granger, Tracey was wearing a dark set of blue jeans, so she had no qualms with sitting on the ground. Tracey tried to keep from grimacing as she noted that the only spot left in the little circle was a spot between Daphne and Potter.

"What are we doing here, Hermione?" Harry asked with a sigh of exasperation, only tensing for a moment when Tracey sat next to him. Despite the fact that they had spent several hours together over the course of the week, it was usually spent in silence as they all tried to do their homework in either the library, the Great Hall, or in one of the empty classrooms designated for _independent_ study.

"Daphne and I thought it might be a good idea if we all tried to get better acquainted. So we've written up a list of questions which we'll all have to answer," Hermione stated, pulling out a sheet of parchment from the book she had laid across her lap as she sat with her legs crossed Indian style like Tracey, Morag and Harry.

Tracey turned to her left, where Daphne was seated with her legs tucked beneath her and raised a brow. "A list of questions? Is this a quiz?" Tracey asked. "Couldn't you have come up with an even lamer way to do this?"

Ron snorted at this, causing Daphne to shoot a scathing glance at him before turning back to Tracey and bristling. "Well what do you suggest?" Daphne shot icily.

"I don't know... truth or dare? Spin the bottle?" Tracey asked, pausing for a moment in consideration. "I never?"

"Isn't that a drinking game?" Ron asked, going unnoticed by the pair of Slytherin girls.

"Because last time went so well," Daphne huffed in a whisper with a roll of her eyes as she turned away at the last suggestion her darker-haired friend made. Tracey chose to ignore this, though her stomach too seemed to clench at the thought of the last time they had all played the game. Of course, it had been with a larger group of Slytherins in the Slytherin common room the previous year, with a lot of alcohol involved; it was really no surprise it went horribly amiss.

"It is," Hermione answered Ron with disapproval all over her tone, before demanding all the attention of the rest of the group by clearing her throat and motioning to sheet of parchment in her hands. "We thought this was the safest and fairest way, by asking questions that aren't terribly invasive. So I'll read the question and we'll all go around the circle clockwise and answer."

"How do we know if they're telling the truth?" Harry asked, shooting a glance at the Slytherin pair in the group.

"It's called faith, Potter," Daphne stated a bit impatiently. "We must trust each other to stay honest, or that our friends will keep us honest."

Harry shot a mildly dirty look at Daphne at this. However, further discussion was stopped by Hermione clearing her throat. "The first question is 'When's your birthday'. Mine is September 19th," Hermione started, turning to look at Ron expectantly. Tracey raised a brow at this, not having been aware that she was born in the same month as the Gryffindor genius.

Ron didn't say anything and had to be nudged before sharing. "March 1st," he replied grudgingly.

"June 18th," Morag replied, her Irish lilt only just noticeable.

"November 21st," Daphne stated detachedly.

Tracey rolled her eyes momentarily. "September 9th."

She wasn't surprised when Hermione looked surprised and Ron started shooting looks between his friend and the girl with dark red hair. However, Tracey was unconcerned by their reaction and turned to look expectantly at Potter.

"July 31st," he stated simply, playing with a few blades of grass.

"Second question is, What's your favorite color," Hermione asked, a tinge of pink to her cheeks. Tracey raised a brow at this, wondering why such a banal question was added. "I've always been partial to maroon."

"Green, I guess," Ron offered up with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Blue, obviously," Morag offered with a smile, motioning to her clothes. Tracey couldn't help rolling her eyes.

"Pink," Daphne replied with a shrug. Tracey furrowed her brow in thought as everyone turned to look at her expectantly. She'd never particularly paid attention to colors, though considering her wardrobe contained a large amount of neutrals and green, she guessed she must be partial to those.

"Green... and grey I guess," Tracey stated with a shrug. It didn't escape her notice that they were more or less her House colors, or the fact that the thought occurred to everyone else in the circle as well.

"Green," Harry said with a shrug when everyone turned to look at him. Tracey chose not to think about the fact that she had something more or less in common with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Whats your favorite subject? I can't decide between Charms and Ancient Runes, they're both just so fascinating," Hermione stated, her chocolate brown eyes lighting up at the thought. Tracey was tempted to laugh, but schooled her expression and turned her attention to the red-head seated next to Hermione.

"Defense," Ron said with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say there really wasn't any subject he could offer.

"I think mine is Herbology," her cousin sated with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Arithmancy," Daphne replied, which Tracey was well aware of.

"Transfiguration," Tracey replied, not really needing to think about it.

"Defense," Potter replied, which really wasn't a surprised to anyone gathered.

"Siblings? If so, older or younger or attend Hogwarts," Hermione read, before looking up. "I'm an only child."

Ron sighed. "I have five older brothers; Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George. And one younger sister, Ginny; although, I'm sure you must at least know the twins."

"Who doesn't?" Tracey asked, unable to help herself. Of course they knew about the Weasley twins, everyone knew them. Especially after the stunt they pulled the previous year during OWLs.

"I don't have any siblings," Morag stated after a brief silence followed Tracey's statement. She looked down for a moment in consideration. "I have a cousin though. We grew up together, practically like sisters."

Tracey tensed at this, but refused to look at Morag, hoping she wouldn't say anymore. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't delight in revealing the fact that they were cousins to anyone else, although she was sure that a fair few Ravenclaws must know of their relationship, not to mention Daphne, and Theodore.

"Oh really? Does your cousin come to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked with mild interest. Morag looked over to Tracey, who could feel her cousins gaze on her but pointedly decided to ignore the Ravenclaw girl. Unfortunately, it seemed the one look as enough, as suddenly Hermione was gasping and covering her mouth, causing everyone to look over at her.

"Are you and Tracey cousins?" Hermione asked, causing Ron and Harry to look between Tracey and Morag with confused expressions.

"For such a brain, you can be quite tactless, Granger," Tracey stated through gritted teeth. She turned and shot a glare at her cousin. "Thank you for that, Mo."

"Did my mum write you?" Morag asked, seemingly unable to help herself or contain her curiosity any longer. "I know she did, I saw Mort deliver something to you. What did she say?"

Tracey raised a brow at this, noting the fact that Morag was speaking at a rather accelerated rate and seemed to be starting to get antsy where she sat. "I think someone forgot to take her mood stabilizing potions," Tracey stated meanly, causing her cousin to flush.

"Mood stabilizing-" Hermione was stating her brows contracted together in concern.

"Since Morag is in such a sharing mood, I don't think she'll mind me sharing," Tracey stated, her eyes remaining locked on her cousin's turquoise pair while her own flashed with anger. "Morag is hyperactive and has trouble with concentration. So she's been taking mood-stabilizing potions that considerably dampen her spirits so she's not running around like a chicken with it's head cut off."

Daphne schooled her expression to remain detached, though she felt like frowning. She thought that Tracey was being unnecessarily cruel to her cousin by revealing her cousin's condition like that. She felt concerned about her friends well-being. Tracey wasn't really the type to be cruel like that, however, she wasn't about to reprimand her friend, at least not in front of three Gryffindors.

"You had no right-" Morag started as she jumped to her feet, her voice getting steadily louder and shaking with anger as she glared down at her cousin. However, Tracey didn't skip a beat and stood up too, her long, lose hair whipping in the slight breeze.

"YOU had no right!" Tracey shouted from where she towered over her much shorter cousin.

"I was curious! Do you have any idea how worried we all were about your disappearance?! You didn't even go to your mum's funeral. Where the hell were you?" Morag shouted, her fair-skin slowly turning tomato-red in her anger. "Did you just run off somewhere having a laugh with your stupid Slytherin friends?"

Daphne jumped to her feet and restrained her friend from launching herself at Morag. However, she was a few seconds too late, as Potter had reacted much faster and restrained her friend who was struggling, her hair flying everywhere, to get out of his grasp.

"Are you fucking joking?" Tracey shouted, as rage fully flooded her veins. "You want to know where I was? I was in a fucking cell in the basement of-"

"Tracey!" a voice cried sharply, cutting off her Tracey's tirade before she revealed more than she meant to. Everyone turned to look somewhere off to Tracey's left and noted a very tall, slender boy with mousy brown hair standing there, having appeared seemingly from nowhere. The look on Tracey's face of shock and incredulity, was mirrored only in Daphne's face for a moment.

"What are you doing here, Nott?" Harry asked, his voice containing his irritation and dislike.

"Tracey, may I have a word?" Theodore stated politely, ignoring everyone but the girl still gaping at him in surprise. Tracey took a moment to recover, as she stared at Theo like he was a ghost; taking in his lanky frame, overly pale skin, bags beneath grey eyes and almost limp, straight hair that fell into his gaunt face.

While Theodore had never been a particularly attractive boy, and always looked mildly unhealthy, he seemed worse for wear and she felt her heart going out to him. However, shooting a look in her periphery and noticing the way Daphne was tense, she wondered what would be a tactful way to say no.

"I don't know," Tracey stated, sounding as uncertain as she felt as she roughly extracted herself from Potter and shot him a glare for touching her. However, Harry either did not see it, or chose to ignore it as he released her arms, his green eyes focused on Theodore Nott as if he was waiting for the other boy to attack.

"Please Tracey," Theodore pleaded, taking a few steps closer. "You know you have nothing to fear from me," he went on, his voice lowering enough so that not everyone could hear. However, being as Potter was still standing somewhat close to her, his attempts were futile.

"All right," Tracey said, giving in. She walked away, without looking back, even though she was sorely tempted to ask Daphne for permission with her eyes, or to at the very least apologize to her as she walked away with her friend's ex-boyfriend.

"Is she really okay with him?" Harry asked, addressing Daphne with his question. Daphne seemed to know this inherently as she watched her friend disappear with her boyfriend beyond a few trees and into the Forbidden Forrest. Though he was still not remotely friendly with Tracey Davis and still did not fully trust her, now that it was confirmed that she had been kidnapped and held prisoner, he didn't feel right letting her walk off with the son of a known Death Eater.

"Yes, I think so. Tracey's mum was an Auror, so she's well-trained in self defense. Besides, he won't hurt her," Daphne replied distractedly, not looking away from the treeline. _He's probably in love with her, of course he won't hurt her, _Daphne thought bitterly as her stomach clenched as the green monster of jealousy once more loomed inside her as it had many times before the previous year.

XX

"So is this how this year is going to work? You avoiding me and having to ask her for permission to speak to me?" Theodore asked quietly and tonelessly as they walked into the Forbidden Forrest together, his stance considerably more relaxed than his companion's.

Tracey felt her face color, but did not turn to look at the boy walking beside her. She had been friends with Daphne longer than with Theo, who she'd only really started talking to in her third year. However, the bond she'd had with him for some reason or other, was a bit deeper than the one she had with Daphne. In Theo, she found almost a kindred spirit, and it hurt her to have to part with him just because Theo and Daphne got it into their head to date each other during fourth year and it had all ended disastrously near the end of their fourth year.

"Daphne needs me more than you do. You're very independent, Daphne isn't," Tracey replied as cavalierly as she could muster.

She didn't really understand what had gone wrong with her friends' relationship. She knew that in part it had something to do with the war, and the fact that Theodore's father was a Death Eater. But she was also sure that there was more to it than that. Whether or not she actually wanted to know what that was, Tracey was uncertain. However, she had never thought it had been a good idea for Theo and Daphne to date in the first place. She just knew that it would end like this, and that as a result the three of them would be torn apart, and Tracey would be left to pick a side.

"Hardly seems fair," Theodore stated, as though he were talking about the weather, that it almost amused Tracey and made her want to smile.

"Yeah well, life's not fair. You know that," Tracey stated, more than aware that Theo would know that better than anyone else. After all, his mother had killed herself when he was little, because she couldn't deal with having to deal with his father anymore, as the man was a true sadist and took it out on his wife, and after her death, on his son.

"Yes, but my acquaintance with you made that knowledge bearable," Theo stated quietly, causing Tracey to tense as she felt his warm fingers brush against hers as they walked. Once, such easy touches between them had been common place. Now, all they left behind was awkward silences and cold in their veins.

"What did you want, Theo?" Tracey asked, trying to get over the awkwardness she felt at such a statement coming from him. While once upon a time it might have caused her to smile and a warm feeling to fill the pit of her stomach, now it only made her uncomfortable. It wasn't right, especially not when he was her friend's ex. Just like the little touches they exchanged had to come to a screeching halt when they had first started dating.

"To see how you were doing, after the summer you just had," Theodore replied with sigh, hating the fact that things had to change between himself and Tracey. He missed her terribly. More so than he missed Daphne, who he had grown to resent in the last months of their relationship. He'd thought ending things between them would make everything better, but somehow it had made him lose Tracey indefinitely.

"As you can see, I'm doing great," Tracey stated sarcastically as they finally came to a stop in their walking. Slowly, she turned to face the boy next to her. Theodore slouched, but even so, the top of her head just reached his nose. Tracey ran her fingers through her hair. "I just don't understand it. Why me? I'm like... a half-blood. My mum was a measly auror, not in some high up position in the Ministry. It doesn't even make sense to me! I'm underage! I can't marry."

Theodore remained silent, his intense eyes riveted to his pretty friend as she ranted. When she finally he thought for a moment whether or not he should tell her what he knew, even though he knew it would make no difference in her circumstance and would probably only serve to further upset her. However, he didn't get a chance before Tracey caught sight of him.

"I know that look," she stated, somewhat sharply, causing him to look into her eyes. "What do you know?"

"It doesn't really matter-" Theodore stated, trying to assuage his friend and not give her any false hope.

"Theo!"

"Well... you're not married, not yet at least," he started slowly, causing Tracey's mouth to fall open.

"What do you meant I'm not married? I signed a contract-"

"Yes... but you were underaged when you signed it so its not valid. So you're not truly married," Theodore explained patiently. Tracey looked up at Theodore, her eyes widening at what her friend was saying. She felt hope rise in her chest. "But you will be. From what Draco's told me, the paperwork is going to be filed and pushed through after you turn of age. After that, the original documents will be conveniently lost, but the registry will still be in and no record of wrong-doing will be evident."

"So the marriage ceremony... it's all a lie... why?" Tracey asked, feeling as though she had been gutted. She backed away until her back hit a trunk and sat down at its base, leaning miserably against it.

"So that you would think it was real and would not raise an inquiry about it once you were back at school," Theodore replied, walking over to where she was and crouching down before her. "I'm sorry, Tracey."

"Maybe I could go to Dumbledore and-" Tracey started, however stopped as she noted Theodore shaking his head with sad eyes.

"It wouldn't matter, Trace. Your birthday is in two days. Besides, Dumbledore is under the impression that Snape is his spy on the inside. I'm sure he already knows about what happened to you, he just doesn't think it's important enough to warrant his attention," Theodore explained calmly with regret.

"So what... I'm just some minor sacrifice in the grand scheme of things?" Tracey asked, looking at Theodore for the answers. Theodore always seemed to have them. He was a veritable genius.

"To those who have all the cards, I guess so," Theodore replied simply, as was usual, unflinching of the truth.

"Why did this happen to me, Theo?" Tracey asked, hoping that Theo knew the answer to this question as tears filled her eyes and a single tear spilled down her cheek.

"I'm not sure, Trace," Theodore stated, gently wiping away the tear with the pad of a thumb. "For that, you'll have to ask the only person who could possibly know your true origins."

Tracey's brows contracted in confusion. "Who?"

"Your aunt Imogen."

**TBC...**

**A/n: **I hope there weren't too many typos in this chap, but I just wanted to put it up so I wasn't thorough with my editing. As always, please review.


	4. Chapter 3: Her Favorite Lesson

**A/n:** Prompts for this chapter are "Here With Me" by Dido and a "Horse".

Also, about the last chapter I noticed a mistake and so for clarification, Daphne and Theo started dating in their fourth year but I meant to write that their relationship deteriorated by the end of their _fifth_ year.

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 3: Her Favorite Lesson**_

Time was moving far too slowly in Tracey's opinion. Since the near-cat-fight by the lake between herself and her cousin, everyone seemed to think it was in their best interest to keep Tracey and Morag as far from each other as was possible. Which Tracey couldn't rightly be peeved at as it meant spending less time than necessary around her cousin, who just rubbed her the wrong way these days.

September faded at a painfully slow pace into October and her birthday passed without much notice. Not that Tracey had wanted to celebrate it, as she spent the day painfully aware that her marriage was finalized and set in stone. Tracey found it so depressing, that she had refused to get out of bed and skived off all her classes, choosing to stay in her dorm and bed without eating for the majority of the day, passing in and out of restless sleep.

To make matters worse, Daphne was giving Tracey the cold shoulder, which Tracey suspected had something to do with the chat she had with Theodore in the Forbidden Forrest. She didn't really understand it as it wasn't as though she and Theodore were talking again, and Tracey told Daff what Theodore told her!

However, she didn't have the energy to go around begging for Daphne's forgiveness, and didn't have the energy to really care as time went on. She had bigger problems on her plate. Besides, she had done nothing wrong, and her pride simply would not allow her to apologize if she had done nothing to warrant it.

Since Theodore had suggested she ask her aunt Imogen about her origins, Tracey had been writing non-stop to her aunt, demanding answers about who her father was. However, her aunt always managed to somehow evade her questions and didn't ever tell her anything useful only irritating Tracey as time went on and confirming the belief she had for a long time, that her mother and aunt _knew_ who her father was and whoever he was, it wasn't someone that either of them wanted to talk about for some reason.

As it was, Tracey found herself stomping her way down the halls, her hands balled into her fist with a small note clenched in her fist. She had been spending an increasing amount of time in the Slytherin common room in order to avoid having to perform baby-sitting duties with Potter, but it seemed that Potter hadn't gotten the memo that if she was in her common room, that _he_ should be in his own common room too. As it was, Tracey now found herself with a detention with the one man she had been trying desperately hard to ignore the existence of since the start of term; though it seemed her eyes were not being cooperative, as they continually roamed over to him during classes, or when they were in the Great Hall during meals.

Turning into an empty hall, Tracey was fortuitous enough to spot Potter making his way down the hall by himself in a seventh floor corridor.

"_Immobulus_!" Tracey called, shooting off a spell and hitting Potter square in the back. Tracey walked over to the boy and walked around him, her wand still drawn and clenched tightly in her fist as she glared into a familiar pair of green eyes. "I have detention with Snape because of you!" Tracey snarled at the surprise pair of emerald eyes.

"As it seems you are incapable of following simple rules, such as not wandering about the castle on your own, I'm simply going to have to keep a very close eye on you. Perhaps if I tote you around for a day, you will learn to not judge people by the emblem on their robes. And I'll warn you Potter, you better not try to escape, because there is NO ONE but me who will be able to return you to your true form, and so help you Potter if you bite or scratch me!" Tracey warned, her voice firm and cold as she backed up a few steps and pointed her wand at the boy-who-lived.

With a complex set of wand motions and focusing her intent and magic, she silently cast a spell, forcing Harry's form to twist and change. For a few moments, she could feel resistance against her magic, however, she stubbornly plowed on with a determination that was domineering and the so-called Chosen One began to shrink, his body becoming enveloped in a swift cloud and disappearing for a moment beneath the opaque smoke. Once it cleared, a tiny black kitten was left where Harry Potter once stood.

Tracey slashed her hand across the air, releasing the Freezing charm, before swiftly bending down to pick up the little kitten whose entire middle fit in her hand, its four little legs dangling on either side. Carefully, she lifted the kitten so that she could look up into its tiny cute face. Circling each one of the bright emerald eyes were circles, that very much resembled the glasses Potter wore.

"You're much more endearing like this, I must say Potter," Tracey smirked, to which the little kitten hissed as it glared down at her. Tracey gave it a stern look. "Remember what I said Potter, no biting or scratching, or I'll keep you like this longer. And no one but me can change you, my Transfiguration work is nearing Master status, and I put locking charms on all my spell work, so no one but me can release them."

With that said, Tracey gave the little kitten one last glare before carefully tucking it away in the large pockets of her school robes.

XX

Tracey sat in the Slytherin common room, whiling away the bit of time before her detention with Snape. Sitting on the black leather chesterfield before the fireplace, Tracey played with the black kitten in her lap, laying it on its back and absentmindedly keeping him trapped there while he tried to wiggle loose from her hold without clawing or biting at her.

Her Slytherin robes were draped over the arm of the couch and Tracey found herself wondering if she should put it back on. After all, it being October, the common room was getting even colder than it was during start of term.

"The common room is surprisingly empty, considering the time of day it is," Tracey commented quietly aloud as she looked about. Including herself, there were only a handful of others scattered around the lengthy room.

Tracey could see Vaisey and Warrington, two Quidditch players, seated at one of the high-backed chairs facing each other with a table in between playing Wizards Chess rather loudly. Millicent Bulstrode was by one of the windows that looked out onto the lake, curled with her legs tucked under her, with a book laying forgotten in her large hands. A small set of Slytherin first years were gathered around one of the coffee tables, all seated on the floor and apparently playing Exploding Snap. Seated at one of the tables near the back, she spotted the new kid, Evan Prince seated by himself, studying very intently.

Tracey had seen the seventh year boy around a few times, and noted that he seemed to be a surly, permanently scowling type. Though he reminded her a bit of Theodore, as like Theodore he was overly pale, tall and very skinny, with the difference that his hair and eyes seemed pitch black. However, Tracey wasn't sure of the exact shade, as she had only ever seen him in the Slytherin common room which was always too dark to discern how dark something truly was. Even her own hair looked black within its confines.

From Tracey's own observation, Evan Prince seemed to always be accompanied by a stack of books. Tracey heard from Pansy that the boy kept completely to himself, and didn't have any friends to speak of. Tracey wasn't sure what it was about the boy, but he reminded her of someone else, but she couldn't quite put her finger on who exactly.

The sound of stone sliding and shifting against more stone, caused Tracey to turn and face the entrance of Slytherin. Daphne marched through and looked quickly around, and upon spotting her she marched over.

"Potter's missing and his friends are having a fit, no one has seen him since Charms this morning," Daphne was saying quickly and in hushed tones as she stood before Tracey, looking anywhere but at her seated and somewhat estranged friend. However, when she spotted Tracey sitting with a kitten in her lap, her brows furrowed. "Where did that come from?" Daphne questioned, her nose crinkling as she stare at the animal with much prejudice. Daphne had never cared for animals, she thought them all filthy and useless.

"We shall call him, the Chosen One. Taking a page out of imposter-Moody's book," Tracey replied with a shrug as she turned away form the dirty-blonde and turned her attention back to the kitten in her lap, carefully picking it up and smiling at it. She knew that Potter must be feeling embarrassed and annoyed to be in such a miniature form that he was so easily picked up and tossed around. However, she rather enjoyed having control over _something_.

"Is that-" Daphne started, her voice taking on a tone of surprise before she carefully moved around to sit next to Tracey who ignored her friend for the moment. This was the most they had spoken since the lake incident. "Potter?" Daphne questioned so quietly that it was more of an exhale than a statement.

"Mmhmm," Tracey hummed in response, putting the kitten back into her lap and turning to look at Daphne who was staring down at the small, four-legged creature with her pale blue eyes wide.

"Tracey! You could get in serious trouble-"

Tracey shrugged her shoulders at this. "The worst they can do is expel me. For that Snape would have to agree and if he does, who cares?" Tracey stated, her voice becoming quieter and her expression darker as she went on. Daphne paused and looked at her friend, with her brows furrowed.

"You don't care if you get expelled?" Daphne asked slowly as though she were having trouble comprehending what her friend could be thinking. As if leaving school without getting your NEWTs was like giving up on life altogether.

"The way I see it, things can't possibly get any worse," Tracey replied, cradling Potter carefully in one hand before picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she stood. With her now free hand she picked up her robes and slung them over her arms. "I'll see you, I have detention to get to."

With that, Tracey quickly left the Slytherin common room without a look back. She knew that Daphne was concerned, but at the moment Tracey didn't give a damn, especially as she girl had been giving her the cold shoulder for the better part of a month. Tracey wasn't in a particularly forgiving mood as she made her way through the darkened halls of the dungeons.

"Now what should I do with you?" Tracey asked, bringing Potters little form eye-level with her as she continued to walk. "I could either let you serve detention with me, and run the risk or you ratting me out to Snape. Or... I could allow Snape to believe that _you_ are skiving off our joint detention, which _you_ earned us. What do you think?"

The kitten scowled at Tracey, which caused a giggle to burst from her lips. "You really are too cute like this, Potter. I think you're better off in this form."

Lowering her hands, Tracey continued to walk and contemplate what course of action to take. It wasn't long before she was standing outside Snape's office door, her stomach twisting into knots as she held a little too tightly to Potter while indecision still hung around her head like a bemoaning ghost.

"What the hell," Tracey muttered to herself, sticking Potter carefully in her satchel, before raising her first to knock. She was running out of time and Snape was a stickler for punctuality. Besides, a part of her was curious to get a reaction out of Snape. One she hadn't gotten even when she was forced to marry the man!

A muffled '_come in_' was barely audible from behind the heavy wooden door. Tracey reached out and twisted the door handle, before stepping in and shutting the door behind herself and casting a curious look about. The only time Tracey had ever been in Snape's office was the previous year during her Career Advice meeting, which hadn't gone too greatly. Snape had lost his temper with her due to her ambivalence towards her future. Beyond being aware that she wanted to get a Mastery in Transfiguration, Tracey really had no clue what she wanted to do with her life.

When she was younger, she dreamed about becoming an Auror, mostly in the hopes of getting some kind of positive reaction from her mother. However, as Faeleen had made it abundantly clear, Tracey's reflexes weren't nearly quick enough to make her a successful dueler. It was why Tracey had to catch Potter off guard in order to Transfigure him. She knew in a fair fight, Potter would have bested her, despite Tracey having a considerably vaster knowledge of Defense due to her mother.

Tracey watched as the man momentarily tensed where he stood beside his desk, looking over at her through a curtain of black hair, his eyes momentarily raking over her. "Punctual, Miss Davis. Potter hasn't arrived yet, but you may take a seat," he told her coolly, motioning to the seat across his desk. Tracey hovered for a moment with her indecision.

"Actually," she started uncertainly, causing him to look back up at her from where he now stood behind his desk chair. Tracey looked away from his intense gaze and turned her attention to her satchel. Opening it, she moved closer to Snape's overlarge desk and pulled the small, black kitten from her bag and carefully set it on the desk, looking up at Snape's puzzled expression. "Potter's right here."

For a moment, silence permeated the office as the little black kitten tried to remain as far away from Snape as possible without falling off the desk. Snape continued to stare, with a frown forming on his face, between Tracey and the kitten she had plopped on his desk, seemingly unable to catch her meaning. For her part, Tracey merely stood tense and ready for what she expected would be Snape's explosion.

Though she knew the man hated Potter for reasons she did not know, beyond anything else, she was sure that this level of audacity on her part where it came to rule breaking would possibly burst the throbbing vein at his temple. Why she wanted to get a reaction from Snape, Tracey was uncertain. Maybe it was because since their _marriage_, Tracey seemed incapable of causing any form of reaction from him. He treated her, just as he always had, like another faceless student not worthy of his time. It insulted Tracey.

"Miss Davis," Snape started slowly, his tone of voice low and velvety, full of danger she had learned to decipher early on in her first year. This was Snape at his most dangerous. "Are you trying to tell me that _that_, is Potter?" he hissed, pointing a long, stained finger at the kitten on his desk.

"Yes sir," Tracey replied airily, blinking slowly up at him, not giving away the thrill that she felt beneath her skin. She could see the vein in his temple begin to throb as his eyes turned murderous and he glared down at the now cowering kitten.

"Why is Potter ..." Snape seemed unable to finish his question as he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while taking deep and calming breaths. His eyes snapped open a moment later and he glared over at Tracey who had the shamelessness to stand there looking up at him innocently with her big eyes. "Explain!"

"Well, I was teaching Potter a lesson about not getting me a detention with his little stunts," Tracey replied, patronizingly patting the little kitten's head. Snape's eyes seemed to zero in on this action.

"And you thought transfiguring Potter into... a cat-"

"Kitten," Tracey corrected, unable to hide her amusement at Snape's inability to utter the word. It was almost as though the man thought it too cutesy a word to be uttered by the likes of him. Snape was unamused by her interruption, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I fail to see what is so funny about the situation. If Professor McGonagall were to find out you used Transfiguration on Gryffindor's golden boy she'll be asking for your expulsion!" Snape snarled, causing Tracey to flinch back. For a moment, she blinked up at Snape as he pulled out his wand and wondered what did he care if she got expelled? Watching the man as he attempted to set Potter to rights, she found herself recalling what Theo had said about the man.

_The Dark Lord thinks Snape is spying on Dumbledore and Dumbledore thinks Snape is spying for him on Voldemort... who is Snape really working for then?_ Tracey wondered to herself as she absently watched as Snape tried again and again, using various different spells to try and revert Potter to his true form.

"I don't think Potter will say anything," Tracey said in small, distant voice as she continued to wonder at the conundrum that was her Head of House. Despite the fact that he hated Potter, it seemed that he was unamused by Tracey's stunt and was desperate to turn the boy-who-lived back into... well_ a boy._

In spite of herself, she found herself recalling what Narcissa Malfoy had said to her about Snape being a good man... one who would look after her. At the time, she hadn't really thought anything of it, as she hardly thought Narcissa was a good judge of character when considering she married a man _who was a Death Eater! _However, she was starting to wonder...

"And where does that brilliant deduction come from?" Snape spat sarcastically, getting frustrated by his lack of success with Potter. He was beginning to worry the boy would be permanently stuck in kitten form due to a poorly thought out revenge on the part of one of his own students, who he imagined probably botched the Transfiguration. After all, Transfiguration was a subject most found difficult, and turning a human against their will into any other object, much less a small animal was very advanced magic. It took a very skilled and very powerful with or wizard to do such a thing. Which, as he looked over at the slender, seventeen year old across from him, he rather doubted Tracey Davis was.

"Well from what I've observed over the last month or so... Potter is rather the noble sort. And he's aware what happened to my mum, so I think he'd think twice about getting me expelled, knowing he might be exposing me to further attack by Death Eaters," Tracey replied in a daze, her gaze affixing to the kitten, who had just turned to look at her with what almost looked like sad eyes. Potter nodded his small little head, though it seemed a bit of a grudging gesture before he turned his attention back to Snape.

"Well at this rate it may be completely irrelevant what Potter does or doesn't do, being as he seems bloody stuck!"

Tracey rolled her eyes, stepping back while pulling her wand from her sleeve. Looking up, she concentrated on Potter and waved her wand at him. Instantly, a teenage boy replaced the kitten, crouching on his legs on top of the desk. As soon as Potter realized he was back in his true form, he scrambled off the desk, shot a glare at Tracey before turning his full attention to Snape.

"It seems I underestimated your abilities," Snape stated grudgingly as he looked over at Tracey, his mouth twisting into a grimace. His eyes than snapped towards Potter standing next to her, who tensed to suddenly be beneath the scrutiny of the Head of Slytherin. However, he squared his shoulders and looked defiantly at Snape. "Is Miss Davis correct in her assumption that you will not... divulge the events of today? Bearing in mind her safety is dependent on her remaining within the castles walls...?"

"Yes," Harry grit out, though he still shot a dirty look at Tracey, making abundantly clear that there was a lot that he wanted to say to her.

"Very well. Get out Potter, I would like to have a word with Miss Davis in private," Snape ordered. Harry shot a dirty look at the older man before swiftly ducking out, still looking rather rumpled. Tracey watched him leave with something akin to trepidation, hardly thinking that this would bode well for her... being alone with Snape.

Before the door fell shut behind Potter, she swiftly turned to watch her Professor, her body stiff as she held her wand more tightly in her hand. She watched as Snape waved his wand about, vaguely recognizing the movements for the silencing charm and a few protective barriers before his eyes turned their full focus back to her.

"I know what I was doing, it's not as though Potter was in any danger at any point," Tracey stated, in defense of herself before he could say anything. "I know very well what I'm doing where Transfiguration and Defense are concerned."

"Be quiet, you stupid girl! Just what was going on through that thick skull of yours when you decided to flaunt the fact the fact that you transfigured Potter into an animal to me? What little game are you playing?" Snape snarled at her, his hands clenching at his sides, as if to keep himself from reaching across to her and wringing her little neck.

"Well as long as I am being honest, maybe I wanted you to expel me. Or maybe I just wanted a reaction from you," Tracey replied coldly, annoyed to have her intelligence belittled; crossing her arms over her chest, she refused to give him the satisfaction of recoiling in fear. "Or maybe, I've completely lost my mind because I can't sleep! It's not easy shutting my eyes, you know, because every time I do I wake with this soul-consuming fear that I'm going to open my eyes and still be in the Malfoy's basement, without knowing if today is finally going to be the day that I'm killed!"

Tracey was shaking by the end of her tirade, her voice having gotten louder and more shrill as she went on. She wasn't really sure where that had come from, or why she was spewing it to Snape of all people. After all, the man was a Death Eater, one she was forced to marry though she had no idea why. But she supposed she might blame him for what happened to her, partly. After all, he'd agreed to marry her, though he had never showed any interest in her in any way.

For a moment, the pair merely started at one another, the only sound in the room being Tracey's shallow breathing as she attempted to regain her control. Beyond a slight furrowing of Snape's brow, he didn't really have much of a reaction to her outburst.

"Do you want a sleeping potion?" Snape said at long last, his tone perfectly serious, that it complete through Tracey for a loop.

"What?" she sputtered in confusion.

"You said you were having trouble sleeping... and that might explain your erratic behavior," Snape stated almost impatiently. "Although, you didn't seem to have too much trouble sleeping..." Snape trailed off, his cheeks coloring. Tracey momentarily was confused about what he was talking about, before thinking about the summer and how they had shared a bed.

Tracey crossed her arms over her chest, willing herself to be untroubled by these recollections. _They'd shared a bed, its not as though anything had happened, and they both slept fully clothed!_

The only time anything remotely … abnormal occurred was one of the few times she fully knocked out and in her unconscious state had cuddled up to the warm body next to her. However, it had only happened once!

"I was pretending to sleep whenever you'd finally get in," Tracey stated testily, rolling her eyes, as though it really should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Snape seemed to flush further at this, though he averted his eyes and gritted his teeth. A moment later, he seemed to have composed himself, the pink tinge having mostly receded at he looked determinedly into her eyes.

"Do you want a sleep aid or not?" Snape asked, almost sounding petulant.

Tracey thought about this for a moment, before shaking her head. While not suspicious of Snape's motives, after long years as one of the students in his House, she didn't want his help.

She didn't think Snape would poison her, after all, he provided the potions for the Hospital Wing. Besides, five whole years of trusting the man was hard to override over the course of several weeks. However, she didn't like the idea of being on potions like her cousin Morag. Though, it was tempting, the idea of being able to sleep like a rock, like she used to.

"Fine. You can leave now, and Miss Davis," he called as she reached the door, as she was quite in the rush to get away. "Your detention has been extended, due to your actions today."

XX

It was the first Hogsmead weekend of the year and surprisingly, Tracey was spending it with her _buddy_ and his friends, not to mention her cousin. Though, Ron Weasley kept giving her the evil eye while Hermione Granger was noticeably angry with her, due to her turning Potter into a kitten. Although, Hermione's anger was dampened due to the fact that she appeared intrigued by Tracey's ability to reach that level in her Transfiguration.

"_But then... you must be able to become an animagi if you can transfigure a person against their will,"_ Hermione had said at one point during their trip.

Tracey had shrugged in response, _"I will, as soon as I can get my hands on a book on animagi."_

For the most part, the day had gone surprisingly well, all things considered. Even Harry Potter's run in with that strange fellow had hardly dampened any of their spirits.

"You know, Ron is actually quite amusing," Daphne commented as she and Tracey walked at the back of the group as they were making their way back to the school. Since the other night in the Slytherin common room, they had more or less started speaking to each other again. Of course, both girls were too proud to acknowledge the underlying problem.

Tracey raised a brow at her friend at this. "Really? You never like _anybody _much less find anything amusing. You find almost everyone obnoxious or stupid, and Ron is both and yet, _you_ find him amusing?" Tracey asked incredulously, earning herself an elbow to the ribs for talking too loudly. However, Tracey rolled her eyes. Harry, Morag, Ron and Hermione were walking several feet ahead of them and she was sure they couldn't hear what Daphne and herself were talking about.

Before any more could be said between the girls, they came to a halt as they realized the people walking ahead of them had stopped as well. Turning their attention whatever it was that had caused them to stop, Tracey saw what had caused it. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw a girl suspended in the air with her hair whipping eerily about her. And then, the girl opened her mouth and let lose a horrible scream.

Tracey watched for a moment in terror as another girl started screaming and trying to tug on her friend down. When the three Gryffindors rushed forward to help the two girls, Tracey snapped out of her frozen trance and turned to Daphne, grabbing her friend roughly by the shoulders.

"Daff, I need you to concentrate, conjure up a Patronous and send a message to Snape about what's happened, like I showed you!" Tracey told her friend roughly, shaking her harshly when Daff continued to stare at her with her mouth hung open and her eyes wide. "DAPHNE!"

Daphne seemed to snap out of it too, shutting her mouth and hastily prying her wand from her robes. In the few seconds it took her to get out her wand, Daphne had composed herself and her face was a mask of determination as she pointed her wand and concentrated with all her might.

"Expecto Patronum!" Daphne cried out, a burst of white coming out of her wand. A tall, dignified, white horse pranced before her as Daphne gave it instructions while Tracey rushed towards the Gryffindors. The Patronous flew past her not moments later.

"Daphne's sent a message to Professor Snape, he'll know best what to do," Tracey stated just as Harry and Ron lowered the screaming, writhing girl to the ground. They both nodded though whether or not they actually understood what she was saying was questionable. However, Tracey didn't care as she looked around for what could have cursed the girl. She spotted a package on the ground near by and approached it, pulling out her wand and levitating what appeared to be an opal necklace. She scrutinized it carefully.

"I've seen that before," Harry stated over her shoulder, suddenly appearing next to her. However, Tracey wasn't startled and merely tilted her head towards him in acknowledgment. "It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it."

"I know... I've read about these in my mom's books," Tracey said quietly and distantly, before looking over at Katie and wondering where the girl had gotten it.

XX

"Today has been a long day," Daphne stated, sitting on her bed heavily later that night. Tracey nodded absently from where she lay on her back in her own bed.

"I'm going to sleep, before Pansy comes up here with her questions, I'm not in the mood to be patient with her," Tracey stated, pulling out her wand and shutting the curtains around her bed without waiting for a response from Daphne. Once that was done, she turned on her side, still laying over the covers and curled into a tight ball, her mind spinning with thoughts.

She didn't know how she was supposed to sleep, after the day she had. It had been a long and very trying week and watching Katie Bell get cursed just about frayed whatever nerves she had left.

"_It's a good thing you learned so much from your mum, huh Davis?" _Potter had told her as they were making their way back to the castle, and for some reason or other Tracey couldn't get it out of her head. It kept repeating itself, over and over, making her heart clench painfully and so tightly in her chest that she was sure it would implode.

Yes, her mother had taught her a lot, and there was so much Tracey should be grateful to her for. But she never could forget, even for a moment, that her mother did not love her and Tracey never got to know why.

Shutting her eyes tight against the tears, Tracey willed away the sad thoughts. Wishing to get some sleep, she adopted a method she had picked up in the last couple months of singing to herself, hoping she'd relax enough to drift off, if only for a few hours.

_I didn't hear you leave  
I wonder how am I still here  
And I don't want to move a thing  
It might change my memory..._

**TBC...**

**A/n: **Two updates, one week, so the next one might take a bit over a week. Who knows, guess sort of depends on the inspiration. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed for far. Reviews help feed the muse.


	5. Chapter 4: Serious Trouble

**A/n:** Prompts for this chapter "message" and "shelf". Also image for "cover" courtesy of .

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 4: Serious Trouble**_

Tracey sat in the library where she spent the majority of time with Daph and all their "buddies", feeling considerably annoyed. As November progressed she found herself spending an increasing amount of time out at the Quidditch pitch, considering Potter was apparently the Captain for his House team and had to run team's practice; to which Tracey made sure to drag Daphne. She figured if she had to suffer through them, her friend had to too. Though, Daphne didn't seem to mind much, being as she seemed to be rather enjoying watching Ron, to the growing annoyance of Hermione.

Since the incident with Katie Bell, things between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had become a bit better. Though, Harry still seemed a bit sore about the fact that Tracey had turned him into a kitten. In order to mend the bridge, Tracey offered to help Potter with his Transfiguration and Defense work, as she noticed he was having a bit of trouble with nonverbal spells. Help that Harry only grudging accepted at the insistence of Hermione that Tracey was one of the best at spell-work in their year and that he could benefit from her help, especially if he wanted to become an Auror.

So it was that if Tracey wasn't in the library, she was at the Quidditch pitch or dragging Harry with her to the Owlery to send yet another letter to her aunt Imogen. Two times a week, Tracey and Harry, along with the rest of their friends would sneak their way to the Room of Requirement, where Tracey would help Harry Potter with his spellwork after getting over the initial shock that such a room had existed in the castle and she had never known about it before.

However, despite things getting somewhat better between the group, things were also becoming tense. Tracey was tempted to roll her eyes at the fact that they were all acting like hormonal teenagers with the exception of herself, which she supposed they _were_ hormonal teenagers, but she personally didn't understand it.

From much observation, it was rather clear to her that Ron and Hermione had a thing for each other, but Ron was oblivious and Tracey wasn't sure what was Hermione's deal. However, tensions were growing between Hermione and Daphne, as Hermione became increasing jealous of the Ice Queen and the attention Ron paid to her. Though, Tracey couldn't really blame Hermione. After all, Daphne was the best looking girl in their year, and possibly in the whole school. By comparison, Hermione was a bit plain. And of course, Daphne didn't seem to care one wit if she were causing an upset in the Gryffindor trio.

Tracey was also coming to suspect that Harry had a thing for the Weaslette, from watching so many practices. Though whether or not the boy was aware of it himself yet, was questionable.

Now as she sat the table, seated between Daphne and Hermione, she found herself wondering. Everyone but Tracey currently had their head bent and was working on whatever assignment of their choosing, but Tracey was having a hard time concentrating and was spacing out.

Every now and then, she caught Morag shooting a glance towards Harry, and sometimes smiling at him when she caught his eyes and blushing. Tracey nudged Daphne beside her, who look at her with irritation at being interrupted while working on Arithmancy. However, Tracey ignored her friend's irritation and motioned to the pair seated across form them just as Morag was once more staring at Harry.

Daphne raised a brow, apparently coming to suspect the same thing that Tracey did. _Morag has a crush on Potter. How sweet,_ Tracey thought sarcastically before getting to her feet and stretching before walking away.

She needed to get away from the group and stretch her legs. They were feeling particularly cramped due to their length and the fact that if she stretched her legs too much they would be touching Harry Potter's, not something she wanted to be doing. The last thing she needed was for Harry Potter to think she was trying to play footsie with him.

As she slowly walked through the library, making her way down a long isle and peeking into every isle branching off from it as though she were looking for something in particular, she was suddenly startled by the sound of a heavy thud, followed by several smaller ones. Walking marginally faster, she peeked around the bookcase and furrowed her brow as she saw Montague and Urquhart apparently bullying someone, several shelves looking as though they had been upset and books scattered on the floor around them.

At her appearance the two burly, Slytherin, seventh years turned to look at her and seemed to straighten themselves out from where they stood over a what looked like a skinny, dark-haired boy leaning heavily against the bookcase. Tracey crossed her arms over her chest and stared down the two boys who were now glaring in her direction.

"What the hell do you think you two are doing?" Tracey asked, returning their glare even more fiercely, feeling rather annoyed that the two older boys were so stupid as to attack another student in the library in broad daylight. She could feel her blood beginning to boil.

"What does it look like we're doing?" Urquhart asked challengingly, straightening his spine so that his six foot frame of bulging muscles seemed a bit more threatening. However, Tracey wasn't afraid of the boy with dirty blonde hair and grey eyes and facial hair.

Tracey uncrossed her arms and flicked her wrist, her wand jumping into her hand from her holster on her wrist, which she leveled at Urquhart. "I suggest you and Montague walk away, before I decide to use you both as guinea pigs for the gender reassignment spell I've been learning."

"Mate, lets go," Montague stated, stepping over the boy they had been shoving around and grabbing Urquhart by the arm, completely ignoring the existence of the boy who was still trying to get to his feet.

Tracey flashed a cold, menacing smile at the boy with shaggy brown hair, as she recalled the spell she had used on him in fourth year during the Yule Ball. The older boy had attempted to get a little fresh with her during the ball. The end result being that she had cast a spell on a certain part of his anatomy, resulting in very painful warts causing him to spend a week in the Hospital Wing.

However, Urquhart merely shoved Montague away and glared down at Tracey. "She's lying, she's not going to do anything. I heard you've earned yourself detention with Snape for a month. You're on thin ice, Davis, you're not going to risk being expelled for the likes of this," Urquhart stated, turning away to aim a nasty kick at the other boy's hip before turning back to Tracey. Tracey only caught a flash of black hair as the boy held his head in his hands before the sight of him was blocked by Urquhart.

"You're under the delusion I give a damn about being expelled," Tracey replied coldly, now pressing her wand's tip against Urquhart's pelvis. "Now I'm going to count to five, and if you and Montague haven't disappeared from my sight, you're going to be Alexandra instead of Alexander, and Montague will be Wilhelmina instead of William. _One_."

"Come on mate, let's go," Montague urged, gripping Alex's arm tightly and tugging it in the opposite direction.

"_Two_."

"She won't do anything," Urquhart insisted, though there was doubt in his eyes as he took a step back to get away from the hard wand digging into his flesh.

"Three."

"You can stay then, I'm getting out of here," Montague stated, dropping his friend's arm and hightailing it out of the isle at a surprisingly fast speed for a boy of his size.

"Four."

"You're not worth it anyway," Urquhart spit at the boy who was sitting now against the bookcase, before taking off quickly after his friend. Tracey rolled her eyes as she slowly approached the boy and squatted so that she was level with him, though making sure that she gave him enough room in case he was unstable and keeping her wand out.

"Are you all right?" Tracey asked after a few moments, when she was sure the coast was clear and the other two weren't returning. She then turned her full attention to the boy, who was still holding his head and seemed slightly disoriented where he sat curled up with his knees to his chest. Tracey judged by the length of his folded up legs that the boy was rather tall and only just noticed that he was a Slytherin due to the crest on his robes.

"Yes," the boy hissed, his voice so quiet that she hardly heard it.

"Well no offense, but you don't look all right to me," Tracey replied, to which the boy looked up and glared at her giving Tracey her first view of his face, though it was slightly obscured by long locks of black hair and very long, pale fingers that were still clutching his head. She was slightly startled to find that it was the new boy, and that his hair and eye color did indeed seem to be black.

From up close, his nose appeared strange to her... almost like it didn't quite match his face; it was simply too straight and small to be proportionate to his long and gaunt features. His skin was pasty white, much fairer even then her own, but with an unhealthy tinge to it.

"I was shoved against a bookcase and hit on the head by a few books. Barring a massive headache, I'm fine!" he snapped at her, to which she raised her free hand in defense, as his voice suddenly caused a tugging at the back of her mind which Tracey proceeded to ignore.

"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you're okay. No need to be an arse about it," Tracey replied, stashing away her wand, and turning her attention away form him to pick up the books that were scattered about. She was starting to get annoyed by the boy's attitude. However, considering he'd just been ganged up on, she supposed she could understand being defensive and proud so she tried to occupy her mind with something else in order to keep form snapping at the older boy.

"Well, no one asked for your help," he retorted, his cheeks flushing blotchily, which Tracey found oddly endearing even though it didn't look attractive in the least. Briefly she contemplated that might be why she found it so endearing.

"Well I didn't do it for you," Tracey stated, getting to her feet and trying to concentrate on putting away the books in her arms as Evan Prince got to his own feet with the aid of the bookcase. "I'm not sure about you, but it bugs me that Slytherin has become the house of bullies and brawn. It's insulting, really," she commented, not really sure why she was elaborating to the surly boy. Though in part, she guessed it was because he reminded her slightly of Theodore and she missed her friend dearly.

The other boy didn't say anything as he proceeded to pick up a few books and help her. For a while, they both merely stood in silence, concentrating on the task at hand and lost in their own thoughts. When they were done righting the shelf that had been upset, they turned to each other and awkwardly stood facing one another.

"I'm Tracey by the way. Tracey Davis," Tracey stated, extending her hand for the other boy, in order to alleviate some of the tension. Slowly and even a bit suspiciously, the older boy placed his hand in hers and shook it. Though Tracey was a tall girl, Evan Prince was still taller than her, even though he hunched slightly and his hand seemed to completely engulf her own.

"I'm... Evan. Prince," the boy replied awkwardly and with a frown, when he realized he was supposed to say something before quickly retracting his hand.

"I know... you know you were the talk of all our house for the second week of school. Never really had a... late starter," Tracey stated with a smile, which seemed to stun the older boy for a moment. "I should return to my... studies," Tracey said after a moment of silence. "I'll see you around I guess."

XX

The following Sunday had Tracey dragging Harry Potter after breakfast to the owlery. "So... what did I miss?" Tracey asked as they made their way through the halls, trying to make conversation as she walked. At Harry's blank look, Tracey rolled her eyes. "Between your friends. Something obviously happened by the way Hermione couldn't wait to run off to the library today, dragging Daphne with her."

The previous day had been the first Quidditch match of the season, which Tracey refused to attend, even if it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor and even though she had an obligation to attend because her "buddy" was playing. However, she rationalized that by the sheer amount of people who'd be surrounding him, that her presence wasn't really necessary. Besides, from what Daphne had told her, the Gryffindors retreated to their common room to celebrate, which of course meant she was rather restricted to Slytherin after the game too.

Harry scratched the back of his neck as they climbed the stairs. "Well since you'll probably notice anyway," he started. "After the game yesterday, Ron sort of got snogged by Lavender Brown. So now they're not really talking to each other. I think Ron's been in the common room, still snogging her. I don't know if they even stopped."

Tracey wasn't particularly surprised by this revelation, as she'd rather noticed the Gryffindor blonde practically stalking Ron Weasley and making her fancying him rather obvious. Briefly, Tracey wondered if this would make things better between Hermione and Daphne, now that Hermione had a new target for her jealousy.

"Oh," Tracey stated stupidly as they both fell silent and continued to make their way. However, as unsurprising as this new development was, Tracey hadn't expected it. Ron was so oblivious, she was sure he had no idea that Lavender Brown fancied him and she was surprised something had happened between them. She guessed it had to be all the Gryffindor girl's doing.

"I've got a question," Harry suddenly said as they continued walking. Tracey motioned for him to go on as they finally reached the seventh floor and started crowing it towards the Owlery. "Malfoy was off sick yesterday, but it seems very... suspicious to me-"

Tracey looked over at Harry with a knowing look, shoving her hands in the pocket of her oversized, black, hoody sweater. Though it was old and faded, it was Tracey's favorite. It was just so comfortable and warm, she hardly cared that made her look shapeless beneath it.

"What?" Harry asked almost defensively at the look that Tracey gave him.

"I've overheard Hermione once, mentioning your theory about Malfoy being a Death Eater," Tracey stated to which Harry ran a hand through his hair. Thought they spend a lost of time together, most of what Tracey learned about Harry was coincidental and from overhearing chats the trio had, of which the three other girls were usually excluded.

"So what, you think it's stupid too?" Harry asked in exasperation, his green eyes flashing with his annoyance as he came to a full stop.

"Not at all," Tracey replied as she kept walking, causing Harry's mouth to drop open. He jogged to catch up with her. Due to their height difference and the fact that Tracey towered over Harry, she had usually had to slow her pace in order for the boy not to be constantly loping after her. "I haven't seen any evidence that he is, except of course him boasting about it, but Malfoy boasts about a lot of things, weeding out whats true from the exaggerations or just plain lies is another matter. But it wouldn't be far-fetched to think its true, irregardless of his age.

"I haven't seen much of Malfoy lately, I'd assumed it was simply because of this whole buddy-system thing. Though I suppose it could be something else altogether," Tracey added thoughtfully as they started climbing the stairs to the owlery. As they climbed the stone steps, they both fell into heavy, contemplative silence.

"Who do you always send messages to anyway?" Harry asked finally and a bit tactlessly as Tracey tied a letter to one of the school's owls.

"My aunt Imogen," Tracey replied absently, not really seeing the harm in sharing that bit of information with Harry. "Morag's mum," she added for clarification.

"Why don't you two get along anyway?" Harry suddenly asked, as Hedwig swooped down for him to pet. Tracey shook her head.

"You're not very tactful, you know that?" she told him, causing him to flush.

"I- I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just curious," he stated. To which Tracey sighed, running her fingers through her long, straight hair.

"We just... don't. We grew apart," Tracey stated with a shrug of her shoulders, as she was not really sure herself. Not wanting to get into this particular subject at the moment, Tracey changed it back to something she felt she could deal with talking about. "About Malfoy... I'd say follow your instincts. I mean, they've gotten you this far."

Harry, for the first time, offered Tracey a genuine smile. "You know what, you're not so bad, Davis."

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Really? Oh thank you, Oh Chosen One, my life is now complete," Tracey stated sarcastically, while flashing Harry a teasing grin and earning herself a nudge.

XX

Severus didn't know what he was doing. Why he couldn't stop watching her. He supposed in part, it was because she was so pretty. Though perhaps her beauty wasn't quite obvious as her blonde-friends, and she struck him as being a bit tomboyish, Tracey Davis was an undoubtedly beautiful girl. With her long, silky, red locks that only appeared red when struck in a certain way by sunlight and her grey-green eyes that sometimes struck him as bright green, and other times like jade stones set big, pretty eyes, it was hard not to see it.

Besides, she wasn't exactly hard to miss. She was easily one of the tallest girl's in the school, standing only just shy of six feet in height. He put her height closer to five ten or eleven.

Or perhaps it was just the fact that she talked to him with a familiarity he'd never really experienced before, excluding Lily Evans. She hadn't treated him either, like he had a contagious disease that she should be wary of, or like he was muck stuck at the bottom of her shoes.

Closing his eyes and ignoring the clenching in his heart that came at the thought of Lily's name, he concentrated on his suddenly short breath. Opening his eyes, he glared overhead and ignored the green curtains that surrounded his four-poster.

_Now was definitely not the time to be distracted by pretty sixth year girls._ Even if said girl was unlike anything he'd ever met before.

Sighing, Severus sat up and tried to put it all out of his mind. He had enough to contend with, being out of time as he was.

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 5: Creating Issues

**A/n:** Prompts for this chapter "Morning Mood" by Evard Grieg and "two people whispering to each other during a lesson".

Want to thank _sara253xxx_ for reviewing, glad someone is enjoying the story and took time to review, apart from the ever wonderful _Alarice Tey_.

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 5: Creating Issues**_

It was the last day of the term, and Tracey was relieved that one of her classes that day just happened to be Transfiguration. While the rest of the glass was supposed to be looking into a mirror and changing the color of their own eyebrows, Tracey had been set a more challenging assignment by Professor McGonagall which consisted of Transfiguring her own facial features so that she appeared to someone else.

"This is quite tedious," Tracey mumbled as she looked herself in the mirror and contemplated her own features, while wondering how she should alter them. Her eyes were too round, she thought as she studied their depths, and her brows a bit too sharp for her liking; though at least they weren't too thick, though that was mostly due to a spell that Daphne had taught her and which she applied religiously every two weeks so as to keep them well groomed.

Due to the grey, winter light coming in through the windows of the Transfiguration class, her eyes had a paler, grey tinge to the green they were, then they did when more warmly lit. Though, Tracey thought that they must be so unique to some people, that they were mistaken for being striking or beautiful.

For a moment, she took in the slight dark bags beneath her eyes, and the pallor of her skin. Her cheeks were somewhat gaunt, and her cheekbones were practically invisible. Tracey thought as she looked at herself with objectivity, that she was pretty enough with the most appealing feature of her face being perhaps the bow of her lips. They were shapely, and well-formed, with a pigmentation that made them appear to be quite a dark-pink color with only hints of red.

Setting down her mirror, she turned to look at Daphne, seated on her left. Daphne had long hair that came down in to her hips in shiny, glossy, perfect lose curls of dirty-blonde. She had almond-shaped eyes the color of pale blue skies. Her brows were naturally slender and perfectly curved. She had full lips, and high cheekbones. Over all, she was your typical beauty, with the body to match. For a moment, Tracey sighed with envy.

While Tracey was the taller and more slender of the pair, she barely had enough curves to distinguish her from a boy, which was completely lost under her robes. Her hair was just as long and healthy, but it was so straight as it might appear limp to some, and so dark it appeared a banal brunette color, unless struck by sunlight or firelight under which the red tinge of her hair could finally show through.

The only claim her body had, were her long legs, and her hips. Tracey wasn't sure it they were wide, or simply appeared wide in proportion to her waist. Or if it was her hips width that made her waist appear tiny by comparison. However, it didn't really matter. The point was that the curve from her waist to her hips, was perhaps her most enticing curve, unless of course one considered her rear's plump roundness appealing.

"Well maybe if you got on with your work instead of staring at me, it wouldn't be tedious," Daphne replied tartly, her voice only slightly louder than a whisper. Tracey was tempted to stick out her tongue at her friend, but instead merely looked around for ideas of what to do with her face, hoping to find inspiration in her classmates.

Across the isle from where she sat, Tracey spotted the Gryffindor trio. Directly across from her, sat Harry, with Ron seated on his far side. Seated in the desk table in from of them were Hermione and Morag. She was tempted to laugh as she watched Harry's look of concentration as he pointed his own wand at himself and looked into the mirror set up on the desk in front of him.

"_Psst_, Potter," Tracey called in a whisper across the isle, while looking around her for Professor McGonagall. However, the scottish woman was at the front of the class, giving some instructions to a Hufflepuff pair in the front. Harry turned to look at Tracey with a confused look, one of his brows bright yellow that Tracey had to tell herself not to laugh at the boy.

"What?" he asked, his voice carefully quiet.

"How are you ever going to get nonverbal spells, if you don't practice all all times? Cast silently," Tracey instructed from across the isle, pausing every now and them to make sure McGonagall wasn't looking their way. Since Tracey had been helping Potter with nonverbals and Transfiguration a couple times a week, she'd taken to urging him whenever she could, to cast spells in class without speaking. It was getting rather annoying all these months later, Harry _still_ wasn't getting it.

Tracey had to often remind herself that it wasn't as easy for him as it was to her, as her mother had forced her to cast nonverbally ever since she was a small child. Just as much of what she had learned was from her mother, or pouring over books even before she had ever come to Hogwarts.

Harry rolled his eyes and waved her off. However, Tracey was pleased to see that he did try to cast nonverbally. Reasonably pleased, Tracey turned her attention back to her own work. She had just transfigured her brows and eyes and was getting started on her lips, when she heard her name being called. Turning around, she looked towards Potter, who for a moment seemed a bit taken aback as he looked at her.

"About Slughorn't party," he started, whispering while simultaneously checking to see if McGonagall was looking his way. "Will you go with me... as friends?"

Tracey was momentarily shocked, which she guessed was the reason Harry had hastily thrown in the friends bit; ever since their conversation on their way to the Owlery the previous month, they had gotten close enough to be considered friends. Especially when considering they spent a lot of time in the library with Hermione these days, Ron usually absent due to spending time with Lavender Brown and because of the tension between himself and Hermione that set everyone around them on edge.

For a moment, her eyes flitted to her cousin Morag, who she noticed had gone tense and shot a look over at Hermione, who seemed to have noticed this too. Turning back to Harry, she wondered what she should say. For a moment, she felt a bit uncomfortable with accepting, when considering her cousin's feelings towards Potter. She knew that the nicer thing to do would be to say no and suggest he take Morag, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't curious about attending Slughorn's Chirstmas party, or that she needed the distraction before the Holidays started.

_Daphne isn't going, this will kill her, _she thought with amusement. _And Potter did say as friends. Besides, I don't owe Morag anything. We don't even talk to each other anymore. _

"All right," Tracey agreed, nodding her head.

"I hope you know what you're getting into," Daphne murmured from beside her. However, Tracey decided to ignore her warning.

"Yes, and you're helping me. After all, I have nothing to wear," Tracey stated, much to Daphne's indignation. However, there wasn't a choice in the matter.

The rest of the day passed at a painfully slow rate and after dinner, Tracey dragged Daphne down to their dorm to help her get ready. A source of frustration to both girl's as Daphne's wardrobe didn't quite fit Tracey and Tracey didn't have enough practice altering clothes for Daphne to be comfortable with allowing Tracey to transfigure them. Besides that Tracey was rather stubborn and adamant about not picking up her hair.

"I don't get you, you never used to have your hair lose much, and now you never put it up!" Daphne exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration before bringing them down on her generous hips as she leveled a glare at her best friend who was presently trying on the fifth set of robes. They were a light pink set that came down to her calves.

Tracey was quick to peal them off with disgust. "I told you those don't go with my hair," Tracey stated before flopping onto her bed, clothed nothing but her under-things and wholly unconcerned by it. Millie and Pansy were the only one's to ever come in here, and Pansy was spending a lot of time of late with her _buddy_, while Millie liked to spend a lot of time in the common room.

Tracey sighed, not knowing why this was causing them so much trouble and she was starting to regret agreeing to go with Harry.

"Well it's not my fault your hair is red, or that you have no breasts," Daphne retorted icily as she picked up her robes and tried to fix them before carefully putting them away. Tracey ignored this as silence fell between them in which Daphne silently stewed. However, Tracey merely turned to her left, placing her cheek against the bed as bad thoughts swirled momentarily in her head. "Maybe Astoria will have something more to your size, she's slender like you."

Left alone with her thoughts for a moment as Daphne left for the fourth year girl's dorm, Tracey ran her fingers along the left side of her cheek, near her ear. She could feel the scar that ran down her left cheek down to her jaw; the once angry cut, had turned into a light pink scar she concealed every day with a cream but was still too self-conscious of, that she kept her hair down just in case. One of many souvenirs she got from her stay at Malfoy manor this past summer.

"These are a bit shorter than mine, but they'll at least come down to your knees, so you can wear them as summer-robes. And they probably won't need any adjustments other than that," Daphne stated as she came back, her voice considerably calmer. Tracey sat up and watched as Daphne fiddled with the robes thrown over her arms. "And I made sure to bring no pinks or reds."

"You can discard that white one too," Tracey stated, before shuddering the thought of wearing white, her mind flashing back to her _wedding_ day. Momentarily she cast a glare at the ring on her finger, thinking she didn't need anymore reminders that she was somebody's wife and that _somebody_ was her dour Professor.

Daphne nodded, tossing aside the white dress-robes when she noted the look in Tracey's eyes as she stared discontentedly at the sole ring on her left hand.

By the time eight rolled around, Tracey found herself standing in the Entrance Hall, where she had agreed to meet Harry when they'd gotten a chance to speak to each other after class. For the last time, Tracey looked down at herself and tried not to nervously tug at the hem of the robes she was wearing, a difficult task when considering the fabric was so light and airy that she felt that she was wearing nothing. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that it almost reached her knee, Tracey would have thought she was wearing a neglige.

The robes were high-waisted and strapless; the top part made of black lace and hemmed along the bottom by a black ribbon which tied at the back. The skirt was a dark, purple color which fluttered down to nearly her knees; the material felt like what she imagined water may feel like, if it were more solid. It was a very breezy, light material, that simply begged fingers to run along it and Tracey feared one rough wind might show everyone her knickers.

On her feet she wore black ballerina flats, courtesy of Daphne whose feet happened to be the same size as Tracey's.

"You look nice," Tracey snapped her head up, just in time to see Potter come down the last steps and begin walking over to her. Tracey nodded briskly, before cringing at the way she was acting. She then proceeded to crack a well-practiced, cocky grin.

"Of course I do," Tracey replied, before giving Potter an over-dramatized once over. "You on the other hand," she stated, walking around him while shaking her head, "look as though a penguin dressed you."

"Shove off," Potter grinned, playfully pushing Tracey with his shoulder. Tracey smiled in turn, while wondering if it were her fate to be forever treated by boys as if she were one of the guys. However, she pushed the thought aside as they both set off, side by side, towards Slughorn's office. As they approached, they could hear music down the corridor along with the sound of laughter and chatter.

Tracey eyes widened as they stepped inside. _It looks like we're in a tent,_ Tracey thought with wonder, while simultaneously trying to remember the last time she was so impressed by magic. Before she could come up with a response, Tracey found they were being accosted by Slughorn. Tracey was too busy trying to see the House elves beneath the heavy platters of food, that she was startled when she felt Harry's hand grab onto her hand and tugging her after him.

For a moment, Tracey tried to not feel accosted by all the bodies she pressed past and took a moment to make sure her dress was still properly in place when she came to a stop. She was so preoccupied, that she hardly paid attention to Slughorn's introduction of the man who lived vampires. She was rather bored with their talk, and instead found herself more fascinated by the vampire himself.

She watched with wonder at the fact that Slughorn thought it was a good idea to allow a vampire into a castle full of potential victims. _Willing victims, I should think_, Tracey thought dryly as she stared at a group of giggling girls standing nearby and staring at Sanguini with rapt attention. Tracey shook her head at them, thinking they were too old to be so stupid before turning her attention to Sanguini and watching rather nonplussed as he tried to edge his way towards, what appeared to Tracey, were fifth year girls.

"...And I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry," Harry was saying when she felt her hand being tugged at again. Briefly, Tracey wondered if this was going to be happening all evening long. "Hermione, Hermione!"

"Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Tracey," Hermione greeted as Tracey shot a somewhat disgruntled look at Harry and pulled her wrist out of his hold. When she focused on Hermione, she felt her eyes widened to see how disheveled the Gryffindor brainy was.

"What happened to you?" Tracey asked, warring between being alarmed and laughing her arse off. She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Hermione so unkempt, unless one counted Potions, in which Hermione's hair could reach an astonishing volume and height. When Hermione finished telling her tale, Tracey decided on laughing her arse off. Which she proceeded to do, to the point that she had doubled over and had to wipe away tears of mirth while Hermione stormed off.

"I didn't think she had it in her to do something so... so..." Tracey said as she straightened, her giggles coming to a steady end as she struggled to find an appropriate word for Hermione's behavior.

"Slytherin?" Harry muttered, causing Tracey to glare at him. However, before she could say anything cutting in turn she was startled when Blaise suddenly stepped before them.

"Well, well, well. Seems to me someone's become quite the turn-coat, haven't they? Honestly Tracey, a Gryffindor? Even a half-blood nobody like you could do better than _that_," Blaise stated, his handsome face alit with a smirk as he shook his head at her. Tracey felt the faintest hint of heat touch her cheeks, as she narrowed her eyes on the dark-skinned boy. Beside her, she felt Harry ready himself for a fight, but both their attacks were preempted when much to both their horror, Snape suddenly appeared as though from thin air.

"What's going on here?" he asked silky, pausing after the first word for effect, as if to make sure that he'd gotten all their attention. Tracey shifted uncomfortably at the way he briefly looked at her before he settled his glare on Harry.

"Nothing, sir," Blaise stated smoothly as Tracey looked away from the entire group. A few weeks prior, she had a particularly nasty argument with her Head of House and... _husband_. He'd been incredibly adamant to her about her signing up to stay in the castle. He'd not wanted her leaving the school, but as much as he tried to frighten her, or yell at her, Tracey was going home. Or well, to her aunt's home. She'd make _damn sure_ of that, even if it meant she had to sneak off the grounds and apparate there, and she told him as much, giving him no choice in the matter.

But Tracey had no choice herself. She _had_ to go home. She had to confront her aunt Imogen. If the woman was too stubborn to tell her by owl, then Tracey was bloody well going to badger the woman during the holidays until she told Tracey what she wanted to know.

"I was just complementing Potter on his... _date_," Blaise went on with a smirk, and Tracey swore she'd go cross-eyed from the sheer stupidity of the statement. She felt her cheeks becoming hotter as she turned a well aimed glare at Blaise which promised retribution. _Don't you know when to shut your mouth? _Tracey thought angrily at the boy with high cheekbones and far too pretty eyes.

"Then I suggest you move on, now you've imparted your _invaluable_ opinion," Snape stated with a tinge of sarcasm, his tone of cold fury sharpened and for the moment fixated solely on Blaise, whose sense of fight or flight suddenly seemed to kick in, and wisely choosing flight took his departure. Turning away from Blaise before he even fully disappeared into the crowd, Snape turned and fixated his angry glare on both Tracey and Harry. Fortunately before he could set upon them for whatever reason he could conjure up, they were joined moments later by a considerably rosy-cheeked Slughorn, whose speech was slightly slurred.

Tracey tried to feign interest in their Potions Master as he spoke, if only to keep her attention from straying to Professor Snape. She was beginning to ponder whether the room was just hot, or if it was just her as she felt the familiar sensation of Snape's unflinching glare, as if it were a flame licking at her skin. She was blissfully distracted from her thoughts by a sudden stirring of commotion.

Looking around, she spotted Filch as he suddenly emerged from the crowd, his gnarled hand clamped over the arm of none other than Draco Malfoy. She watched with wide eyes as Filch, with his eyes gleaming with glee, proceeded to address Slughorn with his suspicions that Draco was sneaking about. She watched with some interest as Draco yanked his arm out of Filch's hands, looking angrier than she ever recalled seeing him.

Tracey lost herself momentarily in thought, as she wondered what Draco was up to. She for one had never particularly cared for Draco, but she'd always had an idea, more or less, of what he was up to. Slytherin's, while never allowing anyone truly close, usually kept a keen eye on each other. However, ever since the start of term and the school's new policy, the Slytherin common room remained unusually empty, and so she had seen very little of her year mates outside of class and meal times.

She watched as Draco completely lost his cool, yelling angrily that he was gate-crashing causing Tracey to momentarily frown, before schooling her teachers once more. After six years of being exposed to Draco's behavioral problems, even she knew when he was behaving _off_. Draco was practically king of ready excuses and had numerous ways of talking his way out of trouble. For him to admit to wrong-doing, meant _something_.

Watching his pale features, noticing that he looked a bit ill, she kept her face a mask of amusement. _Maybe Harry's right. Draco IS up to something and whatever it is must be grave if he's admitting to a minor offense. He must've been wandering about for something else._

"-just this once, we'll forget any punishment," Slughorn was saying. "You may stay, Draco."

Tracey turned to look towards Snape, as she noted the unhappy look on Draco's face at receiving this news before he started thanking Slughorn profusely and kissing his arse. She'd seen plenty of that over the years, it was always sickening.

For a moment, she spotted Snape's expression and wondered at it. There was a stormy look that momentarily flashed behind his eyes, and a quirk to his lips that denoted that he was ill at ease. However, he was quick to mask it, and take on a stance of indifference as he too watched Draco as he spoke to Slughorn.

She wondered as she studied the man she was married to, the man she'd tried so hard to forget the existence of whenever she could, why he was now avoiding her gaze. She knew that he must feel her watching him. After all, he'd been the one doing the staring earlier, though she had no clue why.

_Am I was interesting to him as he is to me, now that we're married?_ Tracey wondered. However, she mentally shook her head at that. _Of course not, I'm just a student. Not a Death Eater or someone who could put his life in jeopardy. _

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," Snape suddenly spoke, his gaze still locked on the Malfoy boy. Tracey was starting to think that Snape was so concerned with Draco Malfoy, that perhaps he had simply forgotten that she and Harry were standing there, watching. She knew that this entire snafu was as interesting to Harry as it was to her, though for different reasons.

"Now Severus, it's Christmas. Don't be too hard," Slughorn hiccoughed.

"I'm his Head of House and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," Snape retorted, only barely keeping from snarling at the older Professor, who Tracey thought was a waste of effort. Slughorn was probably too inebriated to notice nuances such as tone. "Follow me, Draco."

Tracey watched as Professor Snape left, followed by Draco, who had an expression on his face that thoroughly threw Tracey aback. It was so filled with bitterness and resentment towards Snape, which was baffling considering the fact that Draco had always been Snape's favored Slytherin, and he'd always been disgustingly respectful of Snape.

_Just how much have I missed in Slytherin because of this Buddy System mess?_

However, Tracey didn't think about it too long as she took Harry by the hand and discreetly melted into the crowd, dragging Harry behind her. Weaving through the guest of Slughorn's party was relatively easy for Tracey, though toting along the Gryffindor behind her certainly slowed her down, but there was no choice in the matter. She knew that Harry was just as interested in finding out what that was all about, and she'd be damned if she was going to be left behind because Harry liked doing things solo.

Once out in the deserted corridor, Tracey pulled her wand and weaved it in the air. Moments later, a trail of pale wisps, that could be confused for shafts of moonlight, blazed the way before them. "Tracking spell. Shows only fresh tracks, latching on to a person's magical trail, much like scent. It'll dissipate as we follow," Tracey explained as she turned to look at Harry.

"Here," Harry said, and noticed belatedly that he had a cloak which he threw over them. "Invisibility cloak," he whispered before grabbing hold of her arm and dragging Tracey along. Tracey shook her head.

"Of course you have an invisibility cloak," she muttered dryly to herself. It wasn't long before they were both standing outside a classroom, the last in the corridor, to which they both pressed their ears to. Though it was difficult to hear exactly what was being said, Tracey gleaned enough that she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Unconsciously she reached up to her left cheek with her hand, tracing the scar as Snape mentioned Bellatrix, feeling her hands becoming sweaty simultaneously. Though she didn't know what Occlumency was, even if the term sounded vaguely familiar, she heard enough to guess at what it could be.

"-I just don't want _you_ butting in!" Draco stated. The words alone, ignoring the tone spoken, were enough to make Tracey's mind spin._ No one _talked to Snape like that, and Draco especially. _There's definitely been a break down in _that_ relationship. But why? _

"-swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable vow, Draco-" Snape was saying.

Tracey felt her breathing become shallow, her eyes wide in shock. _Unrbeabkable vow... protect you, unbreakable vow... _it was playing in loop in her mind. That she hardly heard anything else but her own breathing, her thundering heart, and those words.

XX

Tracey was quiet and irritable as she sat in her compartment, heading towards King's Cross in London. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink after what she had overheard the previous night. Her mind was too busy mulling over everything she'd overheard and trying to make sense of it all, while shuddering at remembrances she was trying not to think of.

Draco was easily pushed aside. She knew him very well so that he was easy to figure out.

She'd already admitted to Harry that it wasn't far-fetched that he was a Death Eater. The conversation they'd eavesdropped on rather confirmed the belief to her, as it was quite clear the _he_ had given Draco a task. What that task was exactly was a mystery, though Tracey suspected it had to be carried out in the castle and that Draco was supposed to fail in his endeavor. After all, why task Draco, when Snape could carry it out? And why else would Draco's mother task Snape with protecting Draco if that were not the case?

In Snape lay her problem. She didn't quite know what to make of the man, and she supposed that ignoring him as much as possible the past term, instead of observing him and trying to figure him out as she should have, was _not_ making matters any simpler.

_I have to stop ignoring the problems in my life. Ignoring something doesn't make it go away, and in the end it always makes matters worse, _Tracey berated herself internally as she once more went over what she knew about Snape, separating facts from conjecture.

_Snape's my Head of House, and husband. FACT._

_Snape's a grade A bastard. Fact_

_Snape is a Death Eater. Fact._

_Snape is a spy. Fact. _

_Snape isn't Evil. Fact,_ Tracey paused. She of course knew this to be true, considering he could have raped her on their wedding night, but instead maintained his distance and hadn't once tried to cross any boundaries with her. Although, she supposed he could simply not be interested in her...

_Snape is protective, conjecture._ Although, she was almost certain it was true. After all, he'd been very angry when she'd turned Harry into a kitten and he wasn't sure if he'd be turning back. He agreed to protect Draco, granted he had to now that he took the Unbreakable Vow, but if Snape hadn't wanted to he wouldn't have had to. And he didn't want her going home because she'd be leaving the protection of the castle, and by extension himself.

_Snape's loyal to Dumbledore, conjecture._

Tracey raked a hand through her hair and sighed in exasperation once more at a complete loss as to her situation. She gritted her teeth, as she felt an overwhelming need to scream out of sheer frustration and exhaustion. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

And to top everything off, she was going to spend two weeks with her aunt Imogen, not to mention Morag. Not an ideal situation in any case, but Tracey had to know. Although, she was starting to have doubts. Every time she seemed to discover something new, more questions popped up. She felt as though she were in a labyrinth, in which the walls kept shifting so it felt that she wasn't making any progress at all.

Closing her eyes, Tracey rested her head back against the seat, trying to calm herself. _If Faeleen were a symphony she'd be Beethoven's Symphony no. 5 while Imogen would be Evard Grieg's Morning Mood._

Tracey shifted uncomfortably at the thought, wondering if Imogen would still be as nurturing, quietly cheerful and kind as she recalled. It had been after all, several years since she had seen her aunt. Opening her eyes and turning to look at the passing scenery through a veil of hair, she hoped that in the least, her Aunt's appearance changed enough so that when she looked at the woman, she wouldn't see the ghost of her mother staring back at her.

**TBC...**

**A/n: **Sorry about the long wait for the chapter. Was working on another story. As always please Review.


	7. Chapter 6: Heartbreaks and Fallen Stars

**Prompts:** File, Longing, Trauma.

**A/n: **

**~X~x~X~**

**My Luckless Romance**

**~X~x~X~**

_**Chapter 6:Heartbreaks and Fallen Stars**_

_Tracey could only see the faint flickering of a flame in the dark, though the light it cast was not enough to reach her where she sat, leaning against the cool stone of the wall with her legs drawn up to her chest. The air was cool and damp causing Tracey to shiver in her shorts and the spaghetti strap shirt she wore. Her long hair was lose, and she could feel the greasy texture of the long strands as they clumped and rested limply against her arms and back. _

_It had been almost a week since she'd washed, or at least, she thought so. It was hard to keep track of time in the cell she'd been condemned to in the dark. There were no windows through which sunlight, nor moonlight could flow through and alert her of the time. She'd attempted to keep track through the meals she was given, but had given up on that when she'd come to the realization that she was not being fed on any kind of schedule; sometimes, she was sure, she even went days without food or water. Though she supposed that wasn't so bad, she could hardly stomach food, and it wasn't as though she'd been given a proper lavatory to use. Just a bucket in a corner, only afforded the privacy of the fact that there was no one else incarcerated there with her. _

_She could feel the dirt and the grime clinging on her skin, though she'd become too accustomed already to smell the stench that clung to her skin of sweat and musk any longer. Staring at the singular torch on the wall furthest from her, was the only pastime she was afforded. _

_For a moment, she glared intently at the red-orange flame, she watched as it danced and mocked her, but the sudden cracking of a door, echoing down the stairs had her body tensing. Tracey could feel her heart accelerate as her breathing hitched. Tracey held onto the wall as she got to her weak and wobbly legs as she heard footsteps on stone. _

_Before long, a rather large man appeared and walked across towards the cell door. Though it was too dark to make out his features, she could feel his eyes on her body, and she shivered in revulsion. Her legs seemed to strengthen as she felt suddenly filled with nervous energy. Her fight or flight instincts were kicking in and the adrenaline pumping into her system made it hard to think rationally. _

"_They want you," a gruff voice told her as the cell door was open and the large, burly figure stepped towards her, causing her to back further into the wall. However, there was no backing away further from the large hulking figure that made her feel extremely claustrophobic. "Shame they won't let me play with you."_

_The feel of the hand touching her face was more than Tracey could take, as she felt the man's stench wash over her the closer he came. He smelt musky, like a wet dog in from the rain and he smelt of blood. Without conscious thought, Tracey's leg raised roughly, her knee jamming luckily between his legs. _

_A grunt of pain escaped him as he crumbled to his knees. Tracey quickly ran for the door, heart in her throat as she did so. "Fucking little bitch!" she heard the man growl, through teeth gritted in pain as she stumbled up the steps. Though her eyes were adjusting to the pale light streaming down the stairs, and though a part of her knew escape would be impossible, hope kept her going._

_She'd only just finished running up the stairs and through the door, when her head was suddenly tugged back by her hair. Her body was jerked back and bumped into something solid behind her. "Ahh," she moaned, her eyes shutting for a moment and tearing in pain, at a sudden burn was felt against her left cheek. She could feel warm liquid spilling down the left side of her neck. _

"_Now, now, that won't do at all," a voice told her coldly. Tracey opened her eyes and stopped struggling, as she realized that a knife was being held against her neck, the end of the blade having already cut into her cheek and grazing her jaw where it rested. She could feel a hand clamped in the tresses at the back of her head and looking over her shoulder, her eyes caught a heavy-lidded, dark pair staring at her. "Now you be a good little girl, and perhaps I won't have to cut your pretty little face anymore than I already have."_

_Tracey stared in fear, though her heart swelled with hate, at the dark-haired woman. Slowly, so Tracey could feel the sharp edge of the knife, Bellatrix Lestrange removed the knife and pointed it at Tracey's back. Though she didn't let go of Tracey's hair, which she kept clenched tightly and painfully in her fist._

_Slowly and very awkwardly, Tracey was led, or rather pushed, to another room. The pointy tip of the knife at her back, occasionally pricking through the thin cotton of her shirt and gouging at her skin. She could feel like pearls of blood sprouting and very slowly slipping down her back, along her spine. _

_Stepping into the vast room Tracey felt that the room's grandeur was eclipsed by the man, standing by the mantle place. Tracey felt her entire body seize and all her blood leave her as she stared at the back of his tall, slender figure. The bald head with its pearly-white sheen, did nothing to prepare Tracey for the appearance of the man's face as he turned and fixed her with his cold, red stare. _

_Tracey stumbled as Bellatrix released her and shoved her forward. However, Tracey caught herself and stared with wide, scared eyes at Lord Voldemort._

"_No, this won't do," he said, startling Tracey was he waved his wand at her. For a moment, Tracey flinched. However, she felt minutely better as she briefly looked down at herself. Though there was no change in her appearance, she felt slightly fresher. Fingering a few strands of her hair, she noticed that the greasy texture was gone. "How is that?"_

_Tracey wasn't sure what she was supposed to say as she looked back, though, she was sure he expected some form of gratitude. But Tracey couldn't bring her tongue to cooperate, for fear. She imagined that the only thing that kept her bladder from releasing in his presence was the fact that she was so dehydrated, there was nothing in her bladder to release. _

"_Better?" he asked, his eyes insistent on something as they narrowed on her. Tracey nodded her head stiffly, not wanting to try his patience anymore. "Do you know why you are here, Tracey Davis?"_

_Tracey shook her head, even as her eyes widened in astonishment at the fact that this man knew her name. She could feel her body seized with horror, as she wondered what that could mean, although, she imagined it couldn't mean anything good. _

"_Your mother is dead," he told her, without preamble and in a tone of regret, though the regret did not reach his eyes which remained cold as he approached her. "She was too weak to protect you... Believe it or not, I know what that's like... but this is a gift. I hope that you can learn to appreciate that, in time. _

"_Though you are not aware of this as you were asleep when you were brought in, you were looked over," he went on, pausing for a moment as he stepped before her, grabbing her chin in long, cold, fingers. She could feel nails scraping along her skin and fought to keep herself from shivering in disgust or recoiling, knowing any move could set him off. Although, at this point, she wondered if it were not better for the man to kill her. "Did you know that certain muggle cultures would traditionally sacrifice virgins in hopes their prayers would be answered?"_

_Tracey tensed underneath his gaze, which sparkled at her in malice, though she had no idea where he was going with this strange and fearsome meeting. _

"_Barbaric, isn't it?" he asked, removing his hand and stepping away. "There is nothing intrinsically magical or special about virgins. But I can see where such innocence and purity might be prized by some... in such a way, you are a gift. Unfortunately, your blood is not pure enough, but I may have use for you yet..."_

Tracey's eyes snapped open, her mind slowly becoming aware of the throbbing in her chest. As her eyes adjusted to the dark and took in her surroundings, she remembered that she was safe and she was at her aunt's home or rather her uncle's. Staring out the window across from where she lay, she noted that the moon was high in the sky, and estimated that she hadn't been asleep for very long. Turning onto her back, she looked to her side and noticed Morag, curled with her back to Tracey, asleep beside her.

The holidays hadn't gotten off to a great start. When the train had arrived at the station, and she moved along the platform in search for her aunt, on spotting the slender woman, she'd become overwhelmed. In the years since she had last seen her aunt, she found that the older woman hadn't changed at all.

Tall, slender, fair-skinned, pretty and graceful was the best way to describe Imogen McDougal. She had vibrant blue eyes, fiery-red, straight hair that fell to her waist and an easy, gentle smile gracing her fine features. In the seven years since she had last seen her aunt, the woman hadn't changed in the least, and she was still identical to Faeleen; the only difference with the two being their disposition and Faeleen's penchant towards cutting her hair so that it barely skimmed her shoulders. Though she supposed that was normal, considering they were identical twins.

Seeing Imogen again was like a shock to the system. For a moment, Tracey could almost make believe that she was staring at her mother, as she'd always wanted to see her, with her pretty features softened from the usual unemotional mask they were set in and smiling at her with a look of unconditional love in her eyes.

Tracey had drifted as if in a trance directly into the open arms of her aunt and wrapped her arms so tightly around the older woman that she might have made it difficult for her to breathe while tears sprouted in her eyes. It wasn't until her Aunt Imogen had spoken that Tracey seemed to snap out of her trance. The distinctly musical tone that was Imogen's voice was really nothing like Faeleen's, which had a somewhat deeper quality to it.

Quietly getting up from the bed Tracey pulled her wand from beneath her pillow before treading carefully towards the door and slipping silently into the darkened hall, knowing that sleep was going to evade her for tonight. Though, it had been years since she'd stayed at the McDougal's country home, she still remembered the layout well from many sleepovers she'd once had with her cousin when they were younger.

Intending to go to the library, Tracey paused her way by the stairs, as she heard whispered conversation further down the hall. Tracey furrowed her brow as she made her way away from the staircase that would lead her to the second floor and instead headed further down the hall, wondering at the fact that her Aunt and Uncle were still not asleep. By her internal clock, Tracey guessed that it had to be somewhere around three in the morning.

Treading carefully toward her Aunt and Uncle's bedroom, Tracey pressed her ear against the door once she was near enough, not bothering to think about how immoral it was to eavesdrop on her family. "Perhaps you should just tell her, love. Tracey isn't going to let this go and she can be every bit as stubborn and determined as Fae was. She's not going to stop until you tell her who her father was," she thought she heard her uncle say gently. However, it was difficult to understand through the door, especially as her uncle's deep, heavily accented voice, lowered at the end.

"How can suggest I do that? I can't tell Tracey the truth. She has been through so much trauma already to have to bear the truth of her conception too," she heard her aunt say; though they didn't know exactly what had happened to Tracey when she'd gone missing, Tracey suspected that Morag had wrote to tell them that Tracey'd been imprisoned somewhere, as her aunt kept trying to coax her into telling her where she had been or what had happened.

Tracey felt her heart speeding up at the realization that they were talking about.

"I don't think you give her enough credit. Tracey is a strong little one. She's got the heart of a warrior," she heard her uncle speaking, almost detecting a fond tone in his voice which surprised Tracey as the man was usually quite serious and tight-lipped.

"Fae was never the same after... it broke her so completely..." she heard her aunt trail off, speaking almost as though she hadn't heard her husband speak at all.

"Perhaps you don't have to tell her the whole truth, darling. Just tell her who her father was," her uncle suggested.

"Yes because that isn't going to blaze the trail for another set of questions. Tracey isn't stupid and Fae let Tracey into too many of her work files and Defense books. As soon as I tell her that her father is Rabastan Lestrange, she'll know her father was a Death Eater. Considering her mother was an Auror, don't you think it will raise questions about how she came to be? And I doubt that Tracey will believe her mother fell in love with a Death Eater and I'm not going to sully my sister's name by allowing Tracey to believe her mother would stoop so low as to be with... with... such a monster!" her Aunt cried out, her frustration and indignation coloring her tone.

Tracey felt her eyes widen and her heart start to thunder painfully hard in her chest. _No, he can't be,_ Tracey thought, shaking her head, unwilling to believe it because it was simply too impossible. Faeleen had hated Death Eaters with a passion and spent her life obsessing about putting them all in Azkaban. If she had lived to see Tracey married to Snape, it probably would have killed her. Either that, or she would have murdered Snape, even if Snape was never formally charged.

Tracey racked her mind for information she might have come across about Rabastan Lestrange but the only thing that came to mind was that he, Rodolphous Lestrange and Bellatrix were imprisoned in Azlaban after torturing Longbottom's parents about the whereabouts of Voldemort. Although, briefly she recalled when she was about twelve, coming across a thick file which she dropped because it was so thick, and sent many sheafs of parchment scattering across the floor. When Faeleen had discovered Tracey trying to rake it all up, she'd been incredibly furious. It had been the angriest Tracey had ever seen Faeleen. If she recalled correctly, and given how much information Tracey could retain from things she'd read, Tracey had a very good memory, it had been one of the Lestrange brother's.

A gaunt man, with a manic expression in his eyes, and whose hair was long, straight and what looked like a very dark shade of red.

"As difficult as it is and as much as you want to protect Tracey, you won't be able to keep the truth from her forever."

"How do you tell a child they're a result of a rape?" her aunt Faeleen asked sharply and Tracey inhaled sharply, backing up until her back pressed against the wall opposite. She felt as though her head were throbbing as the words played over and over in her head. Unconsciously, she shook her head as if that alone could negate what was heard and keep it from attaching to her mind.

However, tears were already building in her eyes. Before she even realized they were there, they were spilling over her cheeks as her heart broke, already accepting it for truth and as much as Tracey wanted to deny it, it made complete sense.

Faeleen didn't love her, and never had, and this was why. Because Tracey was a reminder of an awful event in her life. Tracey was the reminder that Rabastan Lestrange had taken something from her and disrupted her peace of mind and destroyed her life.

It was why Faeleen couldn't bare to be touched by absolutely anyone. Why Tracey had starved for affection she would never be able to receive because Rabastan Lestrange stole Faeleens ability to love. And because Tracey was his daughter.

A shiver of revulsion rushed through her as she shook her head and a foreign noise escaped her throat. It was something crossed between a groan, a whine and moan of pain. As much as it all made sense, she didn't want it to be true. She didn't want it to make sense. She didn't want to be the daughter of a Death Eater.

A sound startled her from her thoughts as she heard shuffling beyond the door she'd just been listening to. Unready to face what she knew was coming, Tracey turned and ran down the hall, down the strais and out the front door. Not able to see where she was going due to the tears still racing form her eyes to her chin, and hardly able to breath from the lump stuck in her throat, Tracey ran across the moors.

She hardly felt the snow on her barefeet or the cold that attacked her exposed skin. She could heart the sound of her name being called into the night, but Tracey ignored it as she kept running blindly, occasionally slipping as she ran up hills and stumbling as she ran down them. At one point, her foot got caught, and she fell but she hardly felt the pain.

Tracey lay still on the cold patch of earth, her body now shaking with sobs she could no longer contain. Beaneath the cold December sky, filled with sparkling stars, Tracey felt all her will leave her. As she curled up into a tight ball, shedding more tears that she had shed in her entire lifetime, she prayed for whatever entity controlled the universe, to just let her die.

**TBC...**

**A/n: **Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was rather going to be a dark, but I hope that it was still... enjoyable? (that feels like the wrong word to use somehow lol) Anyway I hope I am able to update soon. Have been lacking inspiration to write this lately, and for that I apologize.


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